#where 4 is the number of hours I normally sleep per night

[thatshadowgastwhore]

I may have Tim Drake'd to close too the sun today and seriously considered staying awake for 72 hours for no reason other than to see if I still could after not doing so for over a year, even though I used to regularly go that long with out sleeping, and tried to justify it by saying it was to for fic research to see how he would behave while pulling stunts like that

[aching-tummies]

True Ache: Time Delay

Experienced another 'true stomach ache' last night. The kind where my stomach aches seemingly for no reason. Like…it wasn't over-full or urging me to use the washroom or entirely hungry--it started to ache without a known direct cause.

So…last night was the end of three back-to-back-to-back full-day shifts for me at work--we're talking 8-9 hours of paid labour + 3 hours (total) of transit-stuff per day. Normally, it's hit-or-miss whether or not I'm hungry at the end of such shifts. Lunch breaks are usually scheduled for 2PM or so and I don't get home until 9PM if I am lucky (closer to 10PM if the bus fails to cooperate). I know, 7-8ish hours without a proper meal seems like I'd be starving when I get home…but after 12 hours of being on my feet all I really want to do is shower and sleep until the next one. Coming off of 3 consecutive days of this nonsense means I'm wiped and on the brink of just keeling over and sleeping on the long walk home from the bus stop (20-40 minute walk depending on direction and whether or not detours are necessary 'cuz some shady character is following me or someone decides it's the right time for a massive construction project tearing up sidewalks).

I was wiped last night. I'd thought ahead and had grabbed coffee from work for the road--knowing that without it I'd be dead on my feet for the way home. I was wary of having coffee so late at night, but more worried about falling asleep on the bus or halfway home vs. worried about being too wired for bed.

When I got home, it was to find my housemates/family cooking a huge dinner. That's what it looked like on the surface, but once things got to the table the truth came out. The three couldn't decide on what to put together for dinner and we needed to make room in the fridge 'cuz there's too many forgotten leftovers in there. One person made a gigantic wok full of re-fried fried noodles (combining the 'leftovers' fried noodles from 3 different tupperwares in the fridge), another insisted that fried noodles in Chinese restaurants are often paired with congee and they decided that they'd clear the pesky frozen chicken carcasses from the freezer via tossing them all into a pot of congee (3 carcasses into the pot -_- normally, we only use the one). The last guy decided that he wasn't a fan of noodles and congee so he decided to bake a frozen pizza + the entire contents of a bag of frozen takoyaki I had been saving as a treat (I usually only make myself 3-5 at a time so a single bag of the stuff last me a month or three).

All three of them were beyond pissed off at the massive amount of food they'd generated and the fact that everyone had cooked 'meal-sized' portions for everybody rather than side-dish portions for everybody. There was no way any of it was going to fit in the fridge because they'd all cooked too damned much. So what I walked home to was 3 people livid about the food situation and shoving 3 entire portions of what they'd put together at me and snapping at me to eat it all 'cuz there was no room for leftovers. They all got mad at me when I suggested that we'd have to throw a lot out if we couldn't store it 'cuz I wasn't up for eating a full plate, much less three with my body as exhausted as it was.

Leftovers always do a number on my stomach--particularly the miscellaneous, 2-4 day old mix of noodles one person threw together hit-or-miss whether or not it beats a hasty exit or if it decides to linger and cause problems in my tummy for however long. Congee has always upset my stomach. It's mostly liquid so I guess my tummy doesn't know what to do with it and it always goes through me like it's in a NASCAR race or something. Frozen pizza is pretty filling and the kind we have often upsets my stomach (frozen and then baked peppers on pizza tend to do that). Takoyaki is great…but there's a reason I keep portions under 5 pieces--because it's pretty filling. Most of what I was given ended up making its way into my tummy over the course of two hours. My stomach was already feeling a bit off from the dairy from the coffee I'd drank on the way home.

I ate what I could last night before retreating to my room. I guess my guts were just as exhausted as the rest of me because it chose not to hang on to dinner and let most of it go. By around 1AM, I was alone and trying to sleep. My stomach was starting to twinge with hunger--but it was all being drowned out by an ache coursing through my intestines. There wasn't enough from dinner left inside of me to send me to the washroom but it was like the usual upset-ache that would have accompanied backed-up guts had lingered with a time-delay to keep me up all night.

I laid in bed for a couple of hours, rubbing and prodding at my stomach in hopes of quelling the aches. Stethoscope didn't catch many gurgles, but what I heard told me that my guts were pretty upset despite not having enough physically present to upset them. It was like the aches and upset were a delayed reaction--stuff already left my system, but it left before my guts could generate the accompanying indigestion. My upper stomach--around my ribs--was twinging with hunger pangs, but my intestines were cramping up with indigestion. I guess it was mostly gas in there because it didn't feel like there were solids or liquids enough being pushed along anywhere. Honestly, I felt like a game of "Labyrinth"--that old game where there's a maze and a (usually)steel ball and one has to tilt the entire thing to guide the ball through the maze? I was tossing and turning quite a bit and the air in my intestines was moving about in every direction in my intestines.

I ended up dozing off some time around 5PM. Had about 4 hours of sleep. Woke up to a sharp ache in my guts and lots of sickly gurgles. I've burped exactly once in the 2-3 hours I've been awake. I never burp, at least, not audibly. This one was audible--sharp-sounding…and actually sounded like a belch. It was small, as far as belches go though. Like 1/4th of a handful of air decided to escape violently. My tummy is gurgling--it's still upset. There's lots of gas bubbles squirming around in my guts--trying to find the exit to the maze. My tummy is hurting but not in a way that urges me to the washroom. Hunger pangs are a little stronger than they were last night, but the upset is still winning.

Honestly, last night I was craving some more caring, gentle touches to my tum. My imagined lover was the caring sort trying to soothe my upset tummy enough for sleep. The idea of a sadistic lover intent on prodding my guts to a bigger ache is tempting though. I may post an RP-Starter inspired by this. See what bites.

[samtheflamingomain]

the graphs don't lie

I did a sleep study last week. Out in 20 minutes, didn't wake up at all till they forced me awake at 6am. Told them it was exactly as if I'd slept at home. Compared to most of the other patients looking zombified by a terrible night's sleep, I was fine.

Yesterday the doctor showed me the graph and gave my official diagnosis of an ailment I've known I have for 8 months.

I have IH, idiopathic (unexplained) hypersomnia (tired a lot). Although it felt like a completely normal sleep, I only got around 15 minutes of REM (opposed to the normal cycles of 60 min 2-4 times per sleep) and never hit deep sleep at all. Literally 0%. This more than anything absolutely shocked the doctor. Even those with a bad night's sleep don't spend anywhere near the 90% of time I spent in Stage 2.

Deep sleep (stage 3) is the part that regenerates and refreshes your brain. For 6/7h of my sleep, I was in something of a limbo, stage 2.

Stage 2 is meant to be a 20 minute occurrence before entering and after exiting REM. A little buffer for your brain to chill. Instead I just went there and stayed there. This is the one stage where the brain really does almost nothing. Probably cuz I'm constantly tired and it always wants a breather, and has little time to do much cranial paperwork (stage 3) if you get what I mean.

But I realized I had IH 8 months ago, only officially conformed yesterday. I've never had a medical professional say "You have this disease". More times that I can count, I've been told I'm tired because of lack of exercise, bad diet, my meds, depression. But I have clocked months at a time without being medicated, where I exercised, and when I had a good diet, literally with the sole purpose of proving to doctors that this is not about meds or living a healthy life. Most continued to completely disregard this fact and point out that, did I know, clonazepam can make you tired? Yes, I know. Which is why I forced myself to get off every drug to prove my goddamn point that "clonazepam sleepy" isn't the fucking answer. Unfortunately, most doctors are fucking idiots that aren't qualified to manage a lunch rush at McDonald's.

But today, finally, during a 20-min video call, the Dr. never once attributed my exhaustion to anything but IH. She said that she spent a longer time than usual looking at my study and my (admittedly very large) file. It took her several hours. She realized that in 8 years, there's never been a change in my fatigue despite hundreds of changes in other areas like meds and diet, leading her to believe that this isn't just a part of my many mental illnesses nor benign factors like diet.

I'm on 9 meds and have a billion diagnoses. Hell, let's list 'em: Bipolar 1, Anxiety, CPTSD, BPD, OCD, Anorexia Nervosa, EDNOS, Schizoaffective (4/5 psychs agree, one would argue full-on Schizophrenia), Psychosis, Depressive Catatonia, Addiction (smoking, weed, alcohol), and I'm sure I've forgotten a few dozen more.

Any time before today, a doctor would always throw a dart and pick one medication or mental illness and blame the fact that I have not woken up refreshed in 8 years on whatever their dart hit.

But she put in the work, ran the metaphorical numbers and came out with, "despite all your meds and all your mental illnesses, I am diagnosing you with a disease of exclusion."

"Disease of exclusion" means it's the only answer after accounting for (excluding) every other possibility. It's extremely hard to get diagnosed with one, especially with my phone book of mental illness and accompanying pamphlet of drugs.

But she's right and I've known it for 8 months when I finally discovered IH's existence. I was only diagnosed as Bipolar and not Depressed after my first manic episode at 20. For 7 years prior, I was Depressed, and pissed through dozens of drugs in that time. Then 7 more years of Bipolar drugs.

I think the key thing that made her take me seriously is the fact that I'm on a dose of Adderall that would usually be reserved for the worst sufferers of ADHD. And I can easily pass out an hour after taking it. That's probably the biggest thing that points to IH: even Cocaine Lite can't make me feel awake.

IH has no cure and few treatments besides throwing Adderall and Ritalin at you. But those 2 drugs are nearly identical; if you've tried one you've basically tried both, along with their other siblings I can't name.

But Modafinil is different. It's only ever used to treat Narcolepsy. I do not have Narcolepsy Type 1. I don't even have N2. But after N2 is IH. So by chain of command, it has a chance of working, as IH is technically in the Narcolepsy family.

It's a bit unfortunate, to me, that it took the many, many months of sitting on the sleep study waitlist just for my self-diagnosis to be confirmed and then for a doctor to tell my psychiatrist to get me off Adderall and onto Modafinil. This reads as unfortunate to me because, a week ago, I spoke with my psychiatrist and asked if there were any other drugs like Adderall that might be worth a try, and he said no.

Ritalin is out because I had a psychotic episode after one pill. Luckily, this was when I was already in the hospital. But I actually did name Modafinil because I'd heard of it. And he. Said. No.

So if he doesn't listen to the sleep doctor telling him to put me on it, well, I get to play "wait 6-18 months to find another doctor who will". I'm not a registered patient of the sleep doctor so any recommendations go from her to my family doctor to my psychiatrist. Family doctor is stuck in "must be diet/exercise" mode. Psychiatrist is in "let's get this 5m phone call over with cuz nothing's gonna help you" mode. Finally I get someone in "let's actually think things through for more than 20 seconds" mode and she can't actually give me the one (and quite literally the only) drug that could fix me.

This is already a novel but just one more thing.

I'm Bipolar 1 before anything else. This means, especially since I'm on Adderall which should never be given to Bipolar people, I'm in a state called hypomania. Just one level below "mania", which is one of the few mental illnesses that is portrayed relatively accurately in media. So think that, but a little less intense.

Before IH, I was diagnosed with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, despite only having 1 of dozens of symptoms. I didn't get headaches or days where I couldn't leave my bed. I'm literally just tired. 10/10, 24/7, 365d/y. No exceptions. The only reason I'm able to go to sleep is not because I get sleepier but because I decide it's time to take the sleeping pill that will knock me the fuck out. If I don't, I can very easily just stay up all night, and barely feel any different the next day with the exception of hallucinations. This is because you can't, by definition, get more than 10/10 tired. If that's how your entire life is, your brain adapts to the point where it never says "hey, I'm exhausted, let's sleep." It only ever says "damn I'm tired and could sleep at any moment if you let me".

A lot of people don't realize this, and when I tell them I've been up for 3 days they always say something like "guess you aren't always tired haha I'm very clever." No. I simply either chose not to sleep or realized it was already 6am and might as well start another day. I cannot emphasize it enough: 10/10. 24/7. 365d/y. For EIGHT YEARS.

I'm Bipolar and barely feeling anything from 40mg Adderall. This is not normal. While I'm relieved the doctor didn't do the thing all the other ones did, she still handed me a death sentence in the form of never, ever feeling awake again.

Stay Greater,

[i-am-infinite]

Guilt (Part 1): The Rescue

(Din Djarin x ForceSensitive!Fem!Reader)

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Slight Chpt 12 and 13 spoilers. Read at your own risk.

Description: Moff Gideon has found someone else to run his experiments on and word gets back to Din. Will he take his son far away and try and find somewhere safe? Or will the guilt of an innocent being put in his son’s place eat away at him? (No Y/N or ___ used)

Word Count: Slightly over 4K

Warnings: Mentions of blood and needles. Broken glass. Fainting. Blood loss. Canon type violence. Possible bad writing (first fic pls go easy on me). If I’m missing anything please let me know, I’ve never done one of these before. 

A/N: This is my first fanfic I’ve written so it might be really bad but I couldn’t get the idea out of my head so here it is. I also made up a planet/system and don’t know if star wars has alarm clocks but i wrote it in anyway. I also wrote this in Word first and then realized I couldn’t copy it over so I tried my best to type it over in here. 

Normal. That is what was used to describe your life. Nothing out of the ordinary. Life wasn’t boring per se, but it definitely wasn’t compelling enough for your tastes. Studying to be a healer help keep it somewhat interesting but not enough. 

Bzzzzz. Bzzzzzzzzz. Crust littered eyes creak open as your face unsticks from the textbook scattered across the desk. Bzzzzz. Bzzzzzzzzz. Your stiff neck cracks as you finally sit up. Fell asleep studying again. You loved learning about healing, you really did. But the long nights and barely sleeping was enough to make your head explode. Looking over at the clock with bright red numbers blinking at you. 8:15. 

8:15! I’m late! You think as you force yourself awake. No not again! Being a student means you need to do hands on hours down at the nearest medcenter. All the late night studying also means that you oversleep most days. Grabbing your work bag filled with a change of clothes, in preparation of these events, you run out the door.

Your feet hit the wet cobble stones as it echos through your little part of the city. Vendors lining up the street ready to start their days. Passing the shop you went to yesterday, your mind too preoccupied to notice that it’s empty today. You know that theres is a faster route to the medcenter, but is it a path you really want to take today? Dark and windy path that you can barely see five feet in front of you on mornings like this. Too foggy and muggy for your liking. You’d rather stick to the main road where there’s people, where if anything were to happen, people would see, they would know. Regardless, it shaves fifteen minutes off your commute. You loathe having to be late for another shift. Making the sharp turn in between tow booths, you pace quickens to get through as quickly as you can. While not having much visibility, you swear you can see a pair of eyes in the dark. Has to just be my imagination, you convince yourself, I just need to keep going. It’ll be fine. 

Footsteps echo behind you. Hands grab your shoulders. A scream rises in your throat, but no sound comes out. Everything goes dark when you feel something hit the side of your head. 

.

Sigh. “Grogu get back in your seat.” The little baby waddles down off the controls and into his father’s lap. “Not what I meant,” Din grumbles with a smile hidden under his helmet. He grabs Grogu by his little robe and places him in the seat to his right and tells him to buckle up as a holo comes through from Greef Karga. 

“Mando, we’ve just got word that Moff Gideon might have been seen in the Braic system. It looks like they found a substitute for the baby for the time being. I would use this time to go find a hide-out and lay low. He could still come back for the little one. Be well,”

Din goes to start the ship and find coordinates to stay out of trouble for a while when he hears the baby whine. Looking back at his adoptive child, all Din can see is Grogu, then a nameless kid, lying unconscious on a metal table, trapped underneath a contraption. Din starts breathing heavy and feeling sick that he ever gave his son up to those Imps. All he can hear is the beeping of the machine he’s hooked up to. Anger boiling back to the surface as he hears himself yell at the doctor all over again in his memories. No, he tells himself, He’s here with me. He’s fine. He’s safe. He shakes himself out of it and goes to fly the Razor Crest off planet. 

Before he even gets off the planet, all Din can think about is that innocent person in his son’s place. They were going to kill Grogu, just for his blood for their experiments. Din can’t bring the kid anywhere near those people, he can’t risk losing his family, not when both of them have formed such attachments to each other. But he can’t stop thinking of this person who is in the that position now. He should’ve made sure Gideon was dead. Because of that now more people are going to get hurt. 

Without thinking he turns on his holo already asking, “Where is he taking them?”

. 

Feeling groggy with heavy eyes, you are able to open them just a bit to a blinding light. Reluctantly closing them again, you lift your arm to rub your eyes, but only they don’t move. What? The rest of your senses start coming back and you can feel the cool metal against your back, the same metal wrapped around your wrists and your ankles attached to the table. Finally bracing the light and opening your eyes, lifting your head slightly off the table and oh no the room is spinning now. There is an IV in your arm drawing your blood out into some odd machine, explaining the dizziness. Second time in two days you’ve had to deal with your own blood. 

Walking through the shops on your one day off, you pick up a flower hair pin. The glasswork is so intricate and entrancing, you can’t help but turn it over and over in your hands. A pearl bead sitting in the center of iridescent gray and white petals. Placing it back in its place, your had scrapes against another glass design that is not yet finished, slashing open your palm. “Oh, dear let me help you with that,” the lady running the stand says. She looks you with her white hair barely covering her forehead. Tattoos liter her arms. A design peaks your interest as you swear you know but can’t quite place. 

“It’s fine, I can take care of it myself,” you state already inspecting your hand. No shards in it so thats good. 

“Oh no I insist. It happened at my booth, let me help clean it,” she declares taking your hand in her own. It feels like she squeezes the wound causing you to wince in pain slightly. Knowing she should just be cleaning it and wrapping it, you’re a little confused. Maybe she just doesn’t know how to tend to these sort of things, not wanted to embarrass her at her stand, you keep quiet. She finally gets a clean rag to help blot away at the blood on your hand. You didn’t think anything of it at the time, but it appears she has put it in a bag to the side. 

“I don’t have any gauze to help wrap it up,” the stand lady says. 

“Oh, don’t worry, I have plenty of my own,” you mention, “It will be fine until I make it back to my place.” Smiling you walk away. Without looking, you can feel her move the piece you cut your hand on into the bag. Must just be because it’s a dangerous piece, you think, not knowing there’s still some of your blood on it too. 

Closing your eyes again, you try to wonder why that is so significant to you right now. It was a harmless thing in passing, so why is it at the forefront of your mind? You are strapped to a table and all you can think about is that little cut you got the day prior. If your head didn’t feel like it was a spinner top right now, you would have laughed. Opening your eyes again you see men all in white armor and helmets guarding the door to your room, while a man in a white coat is working on the machine where your IV is attached. I thought the empire was dead. The same symbol that keeps going through your mind is the same one sewn into the man’s white coat. Your breathing gets shallower as you feel the panic rise in your chest. I’m never getting out of here, you realize as your vision becomes black once again. 

. 

You’re losing a lot of blood. You know that. You can feel it when noise wakes you up and your eyelids feel like lead. All the noise is muffled, as if you’re underwater. Frankly it feels like you are. It would be so easy to let the waves of darkness just wash over you right now, to let the water take you under. No, you can’t give up the fight and drown into unconsciousness just yet. You force yourself to stay awake. 

Barely getting your eyes open, bright red lights flood your vision. You imagine you’re still in bed, or at least asleep at your desk, with the alarm clock blaring, not here with blaster fire. Wait, blaster fire? You attempt to turn your head to the side to look, or to dodge, you aren’t to sure in your current state. The fast action causes you to feel like you’re spinning, or it might be the room, either way your eyes can’t focus on what is going on. Closing your eyes again to make it stop, you hear voices surrounding you. They sound so far away at the moment but finally, after what feels like ages, one voice sounds clearer. 

“Please help us. Help us get out of here. Her m-counts aren’t nearly as high as the child’s. They’re demanding more blood. She’s already lost 2 liters, I don’t know how much longer she can last.”

Child? They wanted to do this to a child? You’d choke down a sob if you could just thinking of that poor baby. What did he even say about what-counts? What the hell are those? All these questions are making your head spin more and more. Taking most of your energy to open your eyes, you’re met with a chrome stormtrooper trying to unbind you. Wait no, not a stormtrooper. You’ve heard stories about him and his people. What were they called? For the life of you, you can’t remember right now. 

“You’re going to need help getting her out of here,” you realize that the man in the whit coat was the one who spoke before and is now pleading with the metal man, “Please Mandalorian take me with you and I’ll help you get her out of here.” 

That’s it. He’s a Mandalorian. He gets your wrists free as the doctor takes the IV out. Pushing off the table to sit up, the world starts spinning again. You don’t even realize you’re about to hit the table again until the Mandalorian grabs your shoulders to keep you semi-upright. You hear some sort of static come from his helmet. “Fine.” he grumbles, “help me get her out of this thing.” 

With a flip of a switch, the rest of your body is free from restraints. Eager to get out of there, you swing your legs over the edge of the table, hands finding the arms of the Mandalorian with his hands still on your shoulders. Nauseous and woozy, you try to use the cold metal of his pauldron to ground yourself, to get the room to stop spinning. He can see you start to sway and wraps his arms around your waist as he lowers you from the table. Your feet hit the floor and black dots start to cloud your vision. Blood pounding in your ears trying to tell you to stop and lie back down. Muffled voices come from beside you again as you feel another arm wrap around you from the other side. Your feet dragging against the floor as both men on either side of you go towards the door. 

You feel the heavily armored man to your left let go. Eyes that are still fuzzy and unfocused sort of see him peak out the door with his blaster drawn. He leaves the room and all that can be heard is the pew pew pew of blaster fire. Vision start to come back the tiniest bit, you can see him standing in the door way waving his hand as to say Come on. 

The three of you hurry as fast as you can down the corridor to get to an exit. Lots of twists and turns, just for you all to come up at a dead end. So much for rescuing, you think to yourself as the doctor still holding you up, leans you up against a pillar as the two of them survey the situation. More of the Mandalorian assessing the situation and the doctor just frantically pacing back and forth. 

Sitting down now that the adrenaline of being kidnapped and “rescued” die down, you feel your breathing getting shallower and harder to breath. Eyelids getting heavy again. You just want to lay down and go to sleep, hoping that will fix things. Starting your descent from your upright position to close your eyes, two hands grab your shoulders and jerk you up. It takes a second to realize this modulated voice was talking you you. “Hey, you got to stay with me now,” he pleads, one hand going to the side of your face. Pain spreads across your features due to being struck there earlier, a bruise starting to form in its place. Pulling his hand away like seeing the your face contorted burned him, he continues, “I’m going to get you out of here, you just have to stay awake.” You open your mouth to speak, but your throat feels like it’s filled with sand from Tattooine, so you just weakly nod your head yes. “Okay good,” the shiny man says after letting out a deep breath. 

Still holding your shoulders, he helps you stand up and tells the doctor to take you and go further down the hall. Taking something small and circular out of his belt and placing it on the far wall, he speed walks back toward you two. It starts blinking red as his arms come and cage both of you in. Peeking over his shoulder, you see the wall disappear. Well explode, but one second ago it was there and now it’s not. When the explosion first rings in your ears, you reflexively reach out for the Mandalorian’s arm and feel him tense under your touch. 

When he deems it safe to move again, letting go of his arm, he hops over the rubble to the outside world, blaster drawn. Looking out you think it looks like a desert, but one you’ve never seen before. You have no idea where you are, even what planet you are on. You eyes go to where the chrome man is stalking towards. It seems he found two speeder bikes that the troopers use, sans the troopers. Your feet hit the gravel and you realize you aren’t wearing shoes anymore. How long was I out? You begin to question when you see a stormtrooper take aim at your rescuer. Right when he pulls the trigger, you reach your hand out and scream, “NO!” 

You could’ve sworn it was going to hit him. It should’ve hit him. But at the last second it bent and went in another direction. You knew stormtroopers were bad shots, but nothing like that has ever happened. The Mandalorian whips around at your scream and shoots the trooper down. He goes back to what he originally planned to do, but not without turning to you. You see his chest plate heave up and down a few times before turning back around. After a beat, the only sound you can hear is the Mandalorian starting up the speeders and your heartbeat pounding in your ears. The doctor helps guide you to the bikes and as you���re about to get on behind him, the Mandalorian picks you up bridal style and sits on his own respective bike. You make a noise of discontent at the sudden action and are then seated in front of him, yet again caged in by his arms with your legs draped over one of his. You can hear him breathing through the modulator as he states, “Just in case you pass out again. Can’t have you falling off the back of the bike.” You go to adjust how you are sitting when he takes off. 

Gasping in shock, you hug your arms around his neck with you head in his cowl as you take panicked breaths. His hand touches your back as you hear him shout over the noise of the engines, “Put your legs around me, you’re slipping off.” He holds your waist as you sling your right leg around and hook it with your left one behind his back. Not the position you thought you’d end up in as a blush creeps up on your face, but neither the less here you are. His hand lets go of your waist and back to the handlebars as he steers. 

Suddenly getting the feeling like you’re being followed, you say into his neck cowl, “Go left!” You don’t know why, but you just get a gut feeling to go that way. He follows your lead, not without a brief hesitation. The doctor follows on his speeder in the same direction. Finally looking up you see two stormtroopers in the distance. I wish their speeders would just stop or something, you plead with yourself and you think back to what happened with the blaster. Testing the waters, you unhook one of your hands from Mando’s neck and hold it out and... nothing. Okay focus, you close your eyes and picture their speeders stopping, or malfunctioning, or anything at this point. 

The sound of a crash comes ringing into your ears. Opening your eyes, you can see the troopers flip over their handlebars as if their engines just died. You slightly chuckle to yourself as your eyelids feel heavy again. You try to get them to stay open, but sleep just feels so much better at the moment. And with that, you’re out like a light. 

. 

Din feels you go limp against him. His arm once again going to grab you by your waist to keep you in place. He wills his speeder to go faster, to get back to the Razor Crest sooner as he’s panicking thinking he somehow made the situation worse. He exposed you on the bike by having you sit like this. Your arms, legs, and head were all exposed to possible blaster fire. Have you been hit? He heard a crash but couldn’t look back without moving you more, risking leaving you more unprotected. His blame for himself spirals as his grip on you grows tighter. He can’t explain why he’s so distraught over a stranger, but still every time he blinks, he swears he sees back on that table. The next time he swears he sees his son on that very table again. First he gave the kid up to those people, now he didn’t finish Gideon off and let you, an innocent stranger who he is now clutching onto for dear life, get in the crossfire. Too many people have gotten hurt because of this. Because of him. He needs to make it right. 

Finally Din and Dr. Pershing arrive at the Razor Crest where Din is already lowering the hatch and carrying you in. Kicking some crates together, he gently lowers you down onto this makeshift bed. He uses his thermal setting to see your body temperature, to see how you are recovering from the blood loss. He isn’t thrilled to see it still low, you were getting your energy back slowly before, along with more body heat, bit not enough to Din’s liking. Turning his helmet to Pershing, the doctor says, “She’s going to need more blood.” Din, already standing ready to run out and get some, not even knowing where or how to do  that, is stopped by Pershing telling him that he’ll go get it, that it would look less suspicious. Agreeing, Din sits by your side while using his comm-link to tell Greef that he could bring Grogu back to the ship. How Din always finds someone to babysit still surprises him. 

. 

You wake up with a start. Eyes not yet adjusted to the lights overhead. Looking down you can see an IV in your arm again. Now towards the side, you can see the same doctor from before asleep up against a wall. Please tell me it wasn’t a dream, tears well up in your eyes as you think you’ve made the whole thing up to cope. It wasn’t until you felt your hand come to wipe away your watery eyes that you realized it just might not be a dream. The IV isn’t taking blood this time, it’s giving it. 

Finally looking around, you realize you’re on a ship that feels like it’s moving. Confused by this, you try and sit up. Not nearly as dizzy as before, you slowly swing your legs off the wooden crates you’re lying on. Noticing your still barefoot as a chill gets sent up to your spine by the cold metal floor, you grab your IV bag off what appears to be just a hook poorly attached to the ceiling. You venture around the small area of the ship, noticing there isn’t a lot besides these boxes and what appears to be two storage type of units. You don’t even tempt to look in, too intrusive. You do however see a ladder going higher up on the ship. Taking the IV out and ripping a piece of your shirt off to wrap around your arm for pressure, so you can use both hands to climb, you start your ascent up. 

Once you finally reach the top, you hear cooing? Didn’t that doctor say something about a child earlier? Looking forward into the cockpit, you see your savior flying while looking to his right at one of the co-pilot chairs. Clearing your throat to get his attention, two little eyes peer at you from the seat. A bright smile appears on this little green things face and you can’t help but stifle a laugh because its ears are the size of his body. 

Distracted by this cute baby, you don’t notice the way the Mandalorian swivels his chair to face you. Finally looking at the man who saved you today, your breath hitches. You don’t know how to thank him for what he did, so you sort of just stand and stare for a second. He stands up and lightly grabs your arm with your homemade bandage on it. Tilting his helmet to the side you hear static coming from it. Did he just sigh at you? “You were supposed to keep it in your arm,” he finally states, with a tinge of annoyance. 

Eyes not wanting to meet the T of his visor, you direct your gaze to the ground. “ I jus- I-,” you stammer, not able to find the right words. “Thank you.” It comes out more hushed than you’d like, but he still hears you. He just gives you a slight nod before releasing his arm and heading back to his seat. All your muscles turn to stone as you stand there not knowing if you should leave or not, until he cocks his head towards the seat to his left. On shaky legs you find your way to the seat. Before even sitting down fully, the little green child is already trying to get into your lap. Giggling to yourself you let him up onto your lap. 

Once you do the strangest thing happens. You can feel what he’s thinking, his emotions, his past. How he was trained with the special abilities, much like the ones you just displayed before. How he was scared and in hiding until the man sitting in front of you found him. How he thinks of him as a father, his dad. Your chest tightens at that one. Still confused as to why the same people who wanted this child, Grogu, for his powers, also wanted you, you pull him to your chest to comfort you both. You finally speak up again and ask, “Did they want me because I might have the same abilities as this one?” You meant it to sound strong, but it just came out sounding weak. 

Without looking at you, the Mandalorian replies shortly after a pause, “Yes.” You swore you can see his grip tighten on the ships steering as he says that. Turning to the two of you finally, he says in the sincerest voice you’ve heard out of him, “They wont get to either of you again. I can promise you that.” Your chest swells at this statement and Grogu looks up at you with a smile as if he felt the way your heart fluttered. You wish you were the one wearing the helmet right now because you can feel your cheeks heat up. To ease the situation in the best way you can, awkwardly, you clear your throat before asking, “So where are we headed now?”

Swiveling back in his chair to hit a few buttons, you’re confused not knowing what they are supposed to do until he pulls up a map and points a place out. He tells you that he’s going to drop off Dr. Pershing at one of the squiggles you see and then try and figure it out from there. “So, I guess thats where I get off too?” You meant it to come out more as a statement than a question, but after what you just went through, you’d rather not be left to fend for youself. 

“If that’s what you want,” he finally utters after a while. “ But they’re not going to stop coming after you. Either of you. It might be safer for you to stay here with me, us.” The last part comes out so quiet, it’s almost as if he didn’t want you to hear, out of fear of your response. 

Trying to not answer too quickly, you take a deep breath and finally say, “Yes. I’d like that a lot.” With a curt nod, he turns back around. Warmth fills your chest yet again at this stranger’s kindness. It’s just because I have the same abilities as his child, you try to convince yourself. But deep down you’re hoping it’s more than that. The child in your lap grips your fingers tightly and coos, as if he’s trying to tell you your hopes might not be too far off. 

Oh, it’s going to be an interesting adventure with these two, you smile to yourself. 

[patrickdiomedes]

Well, that explains some things

I did a sleep study a few weeks ago, because I feel like i'm always tired. Just a take-home thing where you have to wear a monitor for one night.

And I tested positive for Severe Sleep Apnea. My breathing stopped 64 times per hour in my sleep. The normal number is around 4.

So that explains why I’m always tired.

[havethetimeofyourstyles]

this is it! the official last part to UTCM! thank you so much for reading <3

wc: 1.8k

story masterlist | masterlist

part one part two part three part four

͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧

“Harry! Hurry up, they’re almost here!”

You were rushing in the kitchen, trying to get everything in decent sized platters and on the table as soon as possible. You had made the mistake of waking up later than usual, and you immediately rushed out of bed, heading straight to the kitchen when you saw him cooking.

He was shirtless as per usual. Hair a mess, but nonetheless, messy hair looked good on him. And he was in his boxers, telling you that he hasn’t been up for long. His back was facing you, and you had walked slowly towards him as you watched the muscles flex with every movement, making your knees weak.

You smiled as you wrapped your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek against his soft back. “Morning. Why didn’t you wake me?” You kiss his skin, making it rise with goosebumps.

He turned around in your arms and looked down at you, flashing his lazy smile, confirming that he had literally just woken up. “Goodmorning, darling.” His pet name for you had plastered a big smile, showing so much love you have for him. “You look beautiful when you sleep. Plus, I wanted to help out. Know you’ll be running around before they arrive.”

He was right because you were doing exactly that.

“Harry! Hurry up, they’re almost here!” You call out from the kitchen.

“Darling, you know everything doesn’t have to be set up right when they get here, so please just slow down.” He kisses your temple, and for a second you felt yourself relax, but that was just for a quick second.

“I know. I just want everything ready when they get here so I don’t have to worry about anything.” He softly says an ‘okay’, knowing there was no point in getting you to calm down.

“So, what can I do to help? Put the sauce in this?” He holds up a saucer cup, but you instantly snatch it from him.

“And have you ruin your expensive shirt? Not happening.” You shake your head.

“Oh, come on! Let me help you out please?” He pouts, giving his best puppy eyes.

“Oh please! Quit that!” You swore it was like living with a four year old. He didn’t change his face, grabbing your arm and blinking furiously. “Ugh! Fine. Set the table and get the casserole out of the oven. My back hurts.”

Harry’s face went back to normal and proceeded to kiss your cheek, which you still smiled at, chuckling at his behavior.

The table was set, and the food had already been transferred onto nicer and bigger plates that were set on the table. Everyone was starting to arrive, saying hi to each other, going straight for drinks, and taking their seats at the table.

“So, why’d you call all of us here?” Gemma asks, and you know her suspicion had been high ever since she got the call from Harry when he asked you were having a big dinner.

“Nothing. Just wanted the whole family to get together again.” She eyes you suspiciously, and you mentally curse, knowing she’s too smart to be put through any games.

Everyone was there right in front of you. Minny and her family, Anne and Gemma, and your mom. Everyone you needed was right there. Food and bowls were passed around and across the long table in the dining room, and everytime you looked up, Harry would be looking right at you.

He would always put up a front saying that he should sit right next to you when you have family dinners instead of across from you. ‘It’s a long distance away from you’ he would say, making you chuckle and telling him that he can survive an hour of dinner without him right next to you.

After everyone was comfortable and settled with their plate of food, Jenny stood up from her seat and raised her glass. “A toast. To everyone in this room and my husband, who is not here, but with us, always. To Whitney’s number one fan.”

“To Whitney’s number one fan!” The entire table yelled out before sipping from their glasses.

You caught Jenny’s eye and smiled before mouthing ‘I love you’ to her and her doing the same. The amount of strength your mother had was admirable, and you had always hoped you would amount to her strength and kind heart everyday.

The conversations had flowed throughout the table as they laughed and ate the food you and Harry had prepared.. And you were happy. Happy with the people that were in the room. The people that you surround yourself with. And you thought, ‘this is the perfect time.’

“I’m pregnant.” You blurt out. The whole room went silent, conversations were ended, and you were filled with anxiousness; thinking of what they might say and how they’re going to react. But then everyone gasped and started cheering. Smiles went all around the room as they walked up to you and hugged you, asking you ‘how long?’ and telling you how happy they were to get a baby in the family.

You were filled with joy by how they reacted, but the only reaction you were worried about was the one across the room.

You hadn’t even told Harry before announcing it to the whole group, and you figured you would surprise him as well. But so many thoughts ran through your head, thinking he was going to be angry with you for not telling him in private.

Your eyes had remained on his, and his, yours. He was in so much shock that he hadn’t realized the people around him were hugging him as his eyes never left yours. Yours were glossy from nerves, but happiness that the news was out.

His family had finally given him some space as they went on hugging each other, and discussing gender and baby names. He started walking towards you, and before he could speak, you beat him to it.

“Harry, I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, nor did I tell you when we were alone. I was just thinking that it’ll be nice to surprise you, like really surprise you, but I wasn’t thinking. I-” your rambling was cut off by his lips as they met yours. You were shaking in his hold, but soon calmed down as his tongue met yours, making you weak. You could have fallen right then and there, but his strong arms held you up, and therefore, you were grateful. He pulled away, breathless and speechless. “You’re not mad?”

“Of course not, my darling. How could I ever be mad when I’m the absolute happiest guy in the world right now.” His smile was beaming so bright that it could provide light into your house for hours.

“Thank goodness. I thought you would want me to tell you when we were alone.” You felt a sense of relief run through your rest that eased your shoulders.

“You could tell me in the movie theatre, and I would scream and cry, not caring if we were supposed to be quiet. Could care less where you told me.” You tippytoe to peck his lips. “So, we’re having a baby. You’re really having my baby.” You nod, happy tears coming down your face as you hug him tight, burying your head in his chest as he cradles you.

You look around the room and see everyone with excited smiles on their faces and their eyes filled with fondness for a baby that’s not even born yet. This was it. This is your life.

You had always wondered how your life became to this. You were so utterly grateful for what was given to you. Everyone around you was your greatest treasure.

A two years ago, you wouldn’t have known if Harry was going to be in your life again. But a trip to the lake house brought you two together. The kiss under the canyon moon ignited a spark in you, giving you a sign that you couldn’t do life without him.

After you had shown up on his doorstep the minute you got back to the city after the trip, he had let you in without hesitation. You two had talked a lot because things needed to be spoken about, and it was the start of working your way back into a relationship and trusting each other again.

You started going on dates and letting him take you out, and it wasn’t awkward for a second; the connection had always been there from the start. After a month of dating again, you had let him do unspoken things to your body that involved his mouth and tongue, guiding you to pleasure. And of course, you wanted to reciprocate, but Harry being the gentleman he is, told you it was about you. But a week after, he had let you pleasure him to his high.

A year later, he proposed. He took you on a weekend trip, telling you to take Thursday and Friday off of work. He drove you down to a lake house, and you weren’t surprised when you entered the route with trees and the woods surrounding the road. It was a romantic getaway that you both needed, but after dinner one night, he took you to the back where twinkled lights were hung up under the stars and the moon. He got down on one knee and said an entire speech about how much he loves you and how much he needs you in his life, that you can recite back to anyone if they asked. Of course, you said yes, and he took you—carried you back inside and made love to you all night on a blanket in front of the fireplace.

You and Harry got married three months after he proposed. You had told him the idea of not wanting a big wedding, just your usual people and some friends. Harry had thrown the idea of getting married at Lina and Dan’s lake house, and you wrapped your arms around his body while kissing his face, telling him you loved the idea. Of course, Lina and Dan agreed, how could they not when their second daughter was getting married. It didn’t take long to get decorations or tables; you really only needed about 4 big tables since there were only 25 people going. Caterer was handled by Anne since her friend was in the catering business. Everyone was happy to help, and you and Harry were entirely grateful for it because you wanted to call him your husband already and vice versa. And when that day came, it was magical.

Under the canyon moon was when it all started again, so you two said ‘I do’ when the moon was bright enough to shine (along with big lights that were set in the back), sealing your lifetime together as one.

You look up at Harry, not disconnecting your bodies that are pushed up together. He looks down at you with tears in his eyes that have fallen down his face.

“I’m home, baby.”

thank you for reading and tuning in to UTCM! this is my first (mini) series, and it was so fun writing this! hope you enjoyed <3 also send me requests on what you’d like me to write so I can turn your imagination to a fic! but i will warn you, it might take a while cause i’m currently working on something else!

talk to me about UTCM here !!

taglist: @pradaxstyles​ @iconicharry​

[mikeyhatesit113]

forever and never: Chapter 11

It’s 2009, and Janie and I are driving home from a nice dinner. The radio is up, and Janie is singing along to the old-school hip-hop melody blaring from the speakers.

Janie closes her eyes, vibing to the music.

“It’s all because of you, I’m feeling sad and blue, You went away, now my life is filled with rainy days...”

Janie opens her eyes and points to me from the passenger seat, smirking.

“I love you so, how much you’ll never know, Cause you took your dope away from me.”

I had fallen deeply for her.

But suddenly, I felt like I was just falling.

I jolt awake in my bed. A crash landing back to reality.

Of course, I hadn’t been in that deep of a sleep anyway. In fact, the only thing in the world I wanted was to fall into a deep sleep.

It had to be late night, for the room was full of darkness.

A lonely pit of hell.

But I wasn’t completely alone, per se. No, my imagination was right there with me, leering at me through the endless black.

It wasted no time in reminding me that I was alone on top of a box spring mattress cushioned by only blankets, and she was in another bed. Somewhere else. With someone else.

Doing whatever else.

Not that my brand new queen-sized bed would have been much more comfortable.

The queen-sized bed that was still sitting in our townhouse unoccupied, I hoped.

The $1600 queen-sized bed I had bought for her just 2 weeks prior to our breakup because her back hurt.

The queen-sized bed I had told her not to sleep on. And in a futile effort to provide an obstacle, I threw my clothes and football jerseys on top of it before I left the house.

If her and Steppenwolf wanted to have sex on it, they’d have to remove my clothing or just do the deed on top of my Tony Romo jerseys. Of course, neither scenario would be romantic for them, I was willing to bet.

And 48 hours after my Labor Day Sunday departure, my buddy and I were hauling that queen-sized bed out of the house and onto a box truck.

The same exact box truck I had used just two years prior when I moved out during the Corey incident.

But it would be for good, this time. That’s what I kept telling myself. After all that had happened, and all that I knew, I couldn’t see any sort of reality where we’d embrace eachother again.

My buddy and I searched the house for anything that was solely mine.

Anything that was ours? I left behind.

Furniture, lamps, the kitchen table, pots, pans, cups...etc.

Her children didn’t deserve to return to the skeletal remains of a place they knew as home. In fact, it was rather depressing how normal the place still looked after I removed all of my things.

It was as if I hadn’t existed at all, which was the goal.

However, when it came to things that were considered ours, I made one single exception.

My car.

The beautiful Lancer that she loved was coming with me, as it was solely in my name and I couldn’t risk a repossession.

After we slid the back of the box truck shut, I went inside the house and soaked in the deathly silence of a place that had seemed to hold so much love at times.

Our pictures still on the wall. Our leftovers still in the refrigerator.

I tossed my house key on the kitchen table that had held countless dinners and meals. I walked out the door, ready to leave it all behind me.

After dropping all of my worldly possessions off in a tiny 5x10 storage unit and then returning the box truck, my buddy and I sped through town in the Lancer.

That night, I was serenaded by a different tune as my buddy belted out the lyrics to The Black Keys’ “Next Girl”.

“Oh my next girl Will be nothing like my ex-girl. I made mistakes back then, I’ll never do it again. Oh my next girl, She will be nothing like my ex-girl. It was a painful dance, Now I got a second chance.”

Of course, that moment in the car with my buddy was one of the few high points.

High points came in small numbers, while the valleys I staggered through were innumerable.

No one wants to speak of those. No one wants to live through them.

That’s why many people hop from one person to the next with no time lapse in between, to avoid in the pain.

But it’s the only way.

The only way out of the fire was through the inferno.

I could not eat. I couldn’t sleep. I could not shut my mind off. This went on for days.

I fall out just long enough to wake up in sweat, tortured by mental images and physical heartache.

I’d look at my phone, a part of me begging to see her number.

A missed call. A text message. Something to show me that she still cared.

Something to let me know that she was hurting too. A single hope, no matter how faint, that she was thinking of me too.

I’d get no such relief.

I was angry to be alone, but other times, that’s all I wanted. I wanted the consolation from others. I needed to hear people assure me that it was going to be ok. But just as important, I needed them to abruptly leave me the fuck alone when I wanted space.

I had been a step-dad for 4 strong years. I had watched the boys grow. I had bought Janie nice gifts. Holidays, birthdays, family gatherings...

But as a step-parent, you have to accept something; if your relationship fails, then it all goes away.

The kids you took care of? No longer yours.

The responsibilities you shared together? Not your problem anymore.

You were merely a spoke in the wheel, and the wheel will continue spinning without you.

My friends and family were incredibly patient with me. I needed to talk about my pain quite a bit, and they always dropped what they were doing to hear me out.

Listen to me repeat myself, and question how she could act as if nothing ever happened.

They knew what to say during times I was simply inconsolable.

I remember the day I began to see a slight glimmer of hope.

My uncle and I had just returned from a pizza shop, where I ordered a sub I could not bring myself to eat, and we were sitting at home. Dusk was approaching, and as usual, I felt the dread rising in my chest.

Another sleepless night on the horizon with nothing but haunting thoughts and memories.

My grandmother arrived home shortly after we did, and she saw me sitting on the front porch agonizing over Janie, stuck in the same old routine of beating myself up.

“Michael,” she said. “You think she’s this great person, and she isn’t. You put her up on this...pedestal...and she isn’t all that,” she said angrily. “She’s NOT all that. Fuck her!”

A silence followed her words, as my moment of sadness was interrupted by the utter shock of hearing Helen Pper use the F word. It happened less often than viewing Haley’s Comet.

She was serious, and she was tired of seeing me hurt over someone she never cared for in the first place.

“She seemed rather fake,” she said, recalling dinners she attended that Janie had invited her to. “She wanted everyone to believe she was perfect.”

There was something about that moment that propelled me forward, and over the next week, being by myself got a little easier, and moments with my friends became more entertaining.

I felt normality creeping back in, and I welcomed it with open arms.

Sleep had even got a tad bit better, especially when I came home one day to find a brand new twin bed mattress and box spring sitting in the hallway.

My grandmother simply had the handbook on giving a shit about me, and giving me hope when all else seemed lost.

That’s the kind of woman she was. You never had to ask. She always just did.

As fate would have it though, fools always find a way to rush in.

And one day, Janie called me.

“How’s it going?” she asked me.

“It’s ok,” I replied.

“I’ve been ok,” she said. “I went hiking.”

This caught me off guard, because if my memory served me correctly, Janie was never into hiking.

“I reached the top of this peak,” she said, beginning to sob on the other end of the phone. “I was sweaty and dirty, but I was just so damn proud of myself. It was beautiful, and I cried, because I just wanted to tell you all about it,” she said.

I listened to her words, trying to understand this new version of her. After 3 weeks apart, and she sounded like a new person.

“Who’d you go hiking with?” I asked.

“A few friends from work,” she replied.

“Is Steppenwolf around?” I asked.

“No, we’re just friends,” she said.

We didn’t speak of divorce, and we said nothing about finalizing the distance between us. Which gave me hope, and then I asked...

“Can I see the boys?”

“Uh.”

“I really miss them, and I’d love to see them.”

“I dunno, Ekim. It doesn’t feel like the right time,” she said apologetically.

We hung up, and I was alone again.

On a damp, dreary evening, hope had visited. And then it left as quickly as it had come.

Days later though, it returned. With a vengeance.

“Let’s grab dinner,” she said.

We chose a local steakhouse, and as we sat in the dim decorative lights, we talked about how life had treated us the past few weeks.

We laughed. We responded to eachother’s quirks and quips.

Suddenly, we were in sync again.

One thing led to another, and we decided to spend the night together.

Not at my grandmother’s house, though. And not at the house we had shared together up until 3 weeks ago.

For some reason, she didn’t want to go back there that night.

“We should get a hotel together,” she said with the excitement of a spontaneous backpacker.

“Yeah!” I agreed quickly, feeling myself fall for her all over again. It was as if I had willingly forgiven, and forgotten about, all the pain I had just lived through.

None of that mattered now. She cared about me. She missed me.

We had found eachother. One more thing we’d overcome.

We were in love again.

We ran back to our respective homes and packed overnight bags. I came downstairs, and my grandmother looked at me curiously.

“Where ya headed, kiddo?” she asked.

“Oh, my buddy is having a video game party tonight, so I’ll just sleep there and go to work in the morning,” I said. “Oh, ok,” she said with a smile. “Have a good time!”

I ran out the door, and my car sped to the hotel we had decided on. She met me in the parking lot, and we went into the room together.

That night, I suppressed all thoughts of why we couldn’t just go home to spend the night together.

The only thing I cared about was having her back in my arms, where we both belonged. No matter how cheap the room felt, or how strange it looked with the nearby restaurant lights creeping through the blinds.

We were together again.

The next morning, I showered, got ready, and left that hotel room for work as she also got ready for work. Our two separate camps probably wouldn’t be fond of hearing where we’d spent the night, and we had no intention of telling them.

We were married, what was it their business?

So what if they had spent the past few weeks gluing our pieces back together? That didn’t mean we owed them anything. If they were truly on our side, they’d support us no matter what.

Of course, that night at the hotel was simply a spark that relit our inferno.

Blazing. White hot. Consuming.

The next night, we met at a bar to watch a football game, like old times. Afterwards, after 3 long weeks, I finally returned home.

We walked back through the front door as different people, but after taking one step inside, my eyes seemed to be deceiving me.

There had been far more changes than I thought.

Nothing was the same.

And it wouldn’t be.

“And now I’m running to you, trying to find myself, But I don’t even know where to start. I guess that time has a way of keeping nothing the same, Cuz I don’t even know who you are. Oh, I hate this feeling. You don’t feel like home.” Papa Roach “Feel Like Home”

NOTE: Though this is my side of the story, including my own personal recollections and opinions, the reader should not consider this note anything other than a work of literature. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

[stellar-alley]

Everfalls

•Chapter 18•

This is based off of the artwork by oceanteeeth on Instagram!

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

(Summary: Does Stanley's sickness interfere with the Ancestors getting to the bus on time? Will they make it home in time for the full moon? Well you'll have to read and see! )

~

“He’s been sick since tuesday, we went out after school and he was all congested and sneezy” Richie filled the Losers in as they sat in a circle outside the room where Stan was.

“And you didn’t tell anyone?” Mike asked, disappointment tainted his voice.

Richie’s shoulders sagged, “come on guys, we know Stan, he always gets a little sick, brushes it off then recovers! How was I supposed to know it would end up being a big thing”.

“No one could’ve known. Don’t beat yourself up Rich” Ben put a comforting hand on the wolf’s shoulder.

“Thanks haystack” Richie nodded his head slowly.

The click of a door opening caught The Losers attention. They all turned to watch Mr Brock emerge from the room, they caught a single glimpse of Stan through the door crack before it shut completely.

“What’s the status doc?” Riche put on a voice which got him an elbow to the ribs from Eddie.

“Beep Beep” he grumbled. Eddie’s hands were tense, up by his chest, anxiously fiddling with his compass.

“Well, he is sick. We tried contacting his parents but the storm that rolled through last night knocked out the phone lines” Mr Brock explained.

Richie cast Eddie a glance, he remembered how he couldn’t call his parents previously.

Beverly stepped forward,“What’s gonna happen?” She asked with her arms crossed.

“Well we-“ Mr Brock started when the sound of another door bursting open stopped him mid sentence.

Mrs. Stuart stepped inside, “Everyone on the bus, the tide is rising ahead of schedule, we do not have much longer” she informed them.

“We aren’t leaving without Stanley” Bill stated as he straightened his posture. The rest of the Losers nodded in agreement.

“Well if he is still throwing up then we can’t have him on the bus” Mr Brock shook his head sadly, “there’s nothing I can do”.

“I-I am fine” Everyone turned to find Stan had dragged himself from bed and had leaned up against the doorframe behind them. His face was pale, the bags under his eyes were darker than previously and his usual straight posture was unusually low.

“Stanley I don’t believe that that’s a good idea” Mr Brock worried.

Stan sharply inhaled, tierd of the bullshit, “I said I was fucking fine so lets just get on the damn bus, alright?”. He was tired but also worried, Stan knew Eddie and Richie needed to get home before the moon rose.

After the rest of The Losers got in on it, and they were all able to force them to allow Stan on, as long as he had a garbage bin in range the whole time. He agreed so they shoved a dollar store garbage bin into his arms and rushed the group onto the bus. They barely had enough time to get settled before the bus driver hit the gas and began on their way to the main rocky road.

~

“Shit” The bus driver cursed as he raked his hand through his thinning hair. “Brock? We’re too late” he sighed as Mr Brock rushed from his seat to the front of the bus to inspect the road. Which wasn't really a road anymore as it meshed perfectly with the ocean around it.

“Shit” Brock repeated.

“Language!” Richie shouted from the back seat.

Mr Brock had to withhold the urge to flip off his student. Instead he curled his fingers into tight fists and sighed.

Eddie elbowed Richie as a means of telling him to shut up as he shot him a look of daggers. Richie laughed lightly before he met Eddie’s gaze, that’s when it dawned on him, what this meant.

“Oh shit”.

~

“Okay guys so good news! We were able to get rooms for everyone in the castle’s hotel!” Mr Brock tried so hard to sound excited but everyone could tell he was stressed.

The two Ancestors snapped to face each other. “What the hell are we gonna do?” Eddie demanded, voice low and tense.

Richie’s face scrunched up in confusion, “How the hell am I supposed to know! I’ve never done this before”.

“Get a room you two” Stan groaned in his sick nasally voice from the seat in front of them. Without another word Stan turned, sat on his knees and leaned over his seat to face them. “Why don’t you two just fucking sneak out of the hotel and shift on the beach?” Stan suggested.

The other two shared a look of confusion, “You could hear us?” Richie quirked an eyebrow.

“Yes I'm pretty sure my cousins in Hawkins could hear you. So next time you plan to discuss your full moon activities, keep it down” He advised before turning back around and sliding down into his seat.

“It’s not a bad idea though” Eddie contemplated the idea as Richie shoved his hand up into his snapback and ruffled his hair while still keeping his hat securely on his head.

Richie looked around then responded, “Okay fine, plus I bet it’ll be just us in the room so it’ll be easy as hell to sneak out-“.

~

Mr Brock stood in front of the class in the lobby of the castle “Sadly there were only a limited number of rooms left so four people per room, everyone group together”.

The Losers looked between each other. That’s the one thing that kinda sucked about their lucky number, seven is an odd number, which meant that whenever they had to split up, the numbers were always off.

Richie and Eddie immediately stood together. Stan glanced at them and shuffled beside them, knowing they might need his help. Bill caught on and stepped beside them, because he wanted to keep an eye on those two, but also because Stan was his bestest friend after all. But in the end all The Losers just stood in one group.

Eddie leaned towards Richie, “We cannot room with Bill”.

“We’ll figure it out later, just act normal” Richie hushed him. Though he put on a relaxed face, he couldn’t help but check the time on his phone. It was 4 pm, the time they were supposed to be home at. The moon rose at 8, so they had a couple hours before they had to get out.

Slowly but surely Mr Brock and the other teachers approved and handed out keys to different rooms. When he finally reached The Losers he haulted with a sigh, “Sorry guys we said four per room, and Beverly, you need to room with people of the same sex” He said semi apogoltically.

Beverly groaned and tilted her head to look upwards, “Fuck my life” She rolled her eyes. “Welp looks like Imma go sleep in the bushes, peace” She held up a peace sign then walked a couple steps away backwards before turning and heading off on her way.

Before she could get very far someone who was vaguely familiar to Beverly walked up behind her and lightly tapped her on the shoulder. Bev turned around and saw a girl from her grade, someone she’s pretty sure she’s seen with Eddie before.

“Hey uh- Sorry I just saw you didn’t have a group and I was wondering if you wanted to join my group. We uh- just need one more person” She smiled warmly. She had brown hair that fell just below her shoulders in soft curls. She wore a shirt she swore she picked up herself at Hot Topic once, it was a black button up with cute line art of crystals on it.

“Sure… Yeah” Beverly slowly nodded then continued, “thanks-?” She questioned carefully.

“Alley” She supplied happily, “My group is over this way” Alley said as she showed Bev over to where he group was standing.

Sadly Ben and Mike were put into a group with two guys they didn’t know very well, Boris and Theo, they seemed oddly familiar but they kinda kept to themselves.

After everyone was shown their rooms, which all consisted of two queen beds, a couch, a tv, and a desk. Nothing too fancy but it was enough. The one thing that sucked was that the rooms didn’t have their own bathrooms. If you needed to go, then you’d have to go to the one that your floor shared. Since no one had any clothes to unpack, since they didn’t plan to stay the night, the four just kinda sat on their beds as Stan cradled his trash bin.

At 5 they were called down to have dinner in the dining hall. The table clothes were white lace and their silverware had exquisite floral designs on them. It was obviously not meant for a group of highschoolers.

While they ate there was some soft elevator like music that played in the background which was mixed with the sounds of low murmurs from the students. The kids spoke in hushed voices as they were slightly intimidated by how underdressed they all felt compared to the decorations of the room and the outfits of the staff.

“Yo would it be bad if I just let one rip right now?” Richie asked the Losers. Eddie rolled his eyes. Stan’s stomach turned at the idea of what that would smell like. Ben, Bev and Mike giggled to themselves while Bill focused on the food on his fork.

~

Bill was aimlessly channel surfing when Richie did a small backflip, rolling deeper back onto the bed before leaping to his feet and jumping on the bed.

“What? What are you doing?” Eddie questioned as he tilted his head back to look at Richie.

“Jumping!” He said simply.

Eddie rolled his eyes and grabbed his phone from his pocket, typing up a quick message before sending it off.

Eddie: WTF are we supposed to do about Bill?

Richie felt his phone vibrate in his pocket so instead of bouncing again he fell on his butt and checked his messages.

Richie: Wait a minute, I have an idea.

A couple moments passed before Richie abruptly got up from the bed and rushed out the door, firmly shutting the door behind him.

“S’he okay?” Stan mumbeled from where he sat hunched over the bin on the other bed.

Eddie shrugged, “Dunno”. He turned his head just in time to catch the weird glare he was getting from Bill. He quickly snapped his gaze down to his lap where his hands were aimlessly playing with the chain of his compass. With his anxiety levels high, and the fucking full moon rising, hsi viens had turned black again. He shoved them into his pockets and hopped Bill didn’t notice.

Richie waited in the bathroom for about 10 minutes before he left and made his way back to the room. He opened the door with a sigh and made sure he walked slowly up to the others.

“Guys I’m sorry but Eddie and I gotta go” Richie pulled his pants up uncomfortably.

“W-Why?” Bill stood up.

“Well… Last night I had mexican food, and the trash stomach isn’t happy about it. So I-uh, gotta be in a room closer to the bathroom” Richie informed them with an embarrassed tone.

“Why the hell would you do that? You know Mexican doesn't agree with you” Stan played along with the act.

“Right…” Bill nodded. “Then why do-does Eddie have to go?” He added.

“I-I need… support. Yep, that’s it, I need emotional support” Richie lied on the spot.

Eddie withheld a sigh, mentally face palming. But either way, he got up and stood by Richie’s side.

The wolf’s face fell “Sorry guys I feel another wave coming-” he announced before fleeing the room, Eddie in tow. The door closed with a slam and they didn’t stop until they were in the bathroom. Richie locked the door behind them with a sigh.

“Yeah cause this doesn't seem weird” Eddie commented.

“What do you want from me? This is the best I could come up with on such short notice” Richie looked down at his hands, they were the same as Eddie’s, black veins and all. He ripped his snapback off and started fanning himself, “Is it hot in here or is it just me?” He asked.

“Nope, it’s the moon” Eddie checked the time, 7:30. “We gotta get out of here, and fast” His ears were sweating from underneath his beanie which seemed to make his head way too hot at that moment.

Richie laced his fingers with Eddie’s then hovered his other hand over the doorknob, bracing himself, “Lay low alright? Anyone questions us, we say you need air because of your asthma”. Eddie nodded.

The werewolf squeezed his boyfriend’s hand with one hand and ran his other hand through his hair. His wolf ears immediately perked up. He closed his eyes and listened, carefully, he tried to pick up any sounds from behind that door and in the hallway ahead of them. The soft shuffling of foot steps filled the air, soon followed by the click of a door shutting. Richie waited a minute before he slid his hat back on, opened the door and stepped out. The two quietly tiptoed on the plush carpet that lined the floor of the castle’s hallway.

Halfway to the stairs, Eddie halted and clutched his abdomen. “Fuck” He gasped.

Richie reached a hand out but it was slapped away by Eddie.

“I’m fine. Just hurts. We need to hurry” He whispered through gritted teeth.

Richie squeezed Eddie’s hand but continued on. When they reached the metal door to the stairs Eddie stepped in front of Richie and with a swift flick of his wrist the door magically opened just enough for them to slip through, closing quietly behind them.

Rushing down the stairs they shared the same pain that shot through their bodies every time their feet hit the floor. They burst into the main lobby, relieved to see that no one was at the main desk desk and the lounge area was empty. They rushed past the fancy leather seats and the artifact cases. Eddie held his hand out to open the door when the sound of a lady clearing her throat stopped them dead in their tracks.

“Well well well, someone out for a late night stroll?” Elizah’s british accent sent shivers down Eddie’s spine. He’d heard her give speeches countless times in the past but her voice never failed to bring goosebumps to his arms. “Please turn around, it’s very disrespectful to not face someone when you’ve been spoken to, epssesually an elder” Her voice was like an ice dagger, cold and lethal.

Hesitantly the two Ancestors turned to face her. Immediately she scanned the two boys. A faint smirk spread over her lips but she spoke before either of them could examine it further. “See if I didn’t know any better, I would have assumed that you were one of our runaway Ancestors.” She paused to think, “Eddie Kaspbrak was his name… But oh no, that simply cannot be, as he’s supposed to be dead”.

Richie tightened his grip on Eddie’s hand.

“But as I said, he was a runaway.” She took a couple steps towards them, hands behind her back then moved to settle them onto her hips. “Runways always find their way back, don’t they, Edward” She sneered.

Eddie’s eyes widened as his jaw fell slack, unable to properly respond. He could feel Richie growl as it reverberated throughout his body. It began in his chest and spilled out from his mouth.

She continued before either of the boys could speak up, “And who might you be, a young were-“.

“Boys?”

The rabbit and the wolf turned to the familiar voice.

“What’s going on? You two are supposed to be in your rooms” Mr Brock stepped out from one the shadows of the various hallways. Confusion covered his face as he approached the boys.

“Eddie’s asthma was acting up, he needed some fresh air a-and our window didn't open” Richie spit out, a nervous sweat breaking out under his hat, that unsettled feeling suddenly turned up a notch.

“Oh well is everything better now?” Their teacher worried.

Eddie still couldn’t speak, his mind was running a mile a minute. She knew, the council knew. Suddenly all of his worst nightmares were becoming a reality.

“Yes, yes. He’s much better. But uh, sir would you mind escorting me and my dearest friend back to our room. We seem to have forgotten the key, we left in a hurry” Richie almost slipped into one of his voices. But with all things considered, he opted to keep things mature and serious. He anxiously grasped his key in his pocket. He hadn't forgotten it. It never left his pocket since the moment they entered the room, but he knew that Elizah wouldn’t make a move in front of Mr Brock, their teacher, a human.

Mr Brock seemed taken aback by Richie’s new tone, “Oh, of course” he nodded, extending an arm for the boys to follow him.

Without missing a beat the two left Elizah in the lobby and followed their teacher back to their room. The walk was quiet, Mr Brock kept up a steady pace a couple feet ahead.

Richie carfully rubbed his thumb over the back of Eddie’s hand as a way to sooth him as their inevitable transformations would have to wait a little longer. When they reached their room, they thanked Mr Brock as he opened the door. He also closed it behind them, they quickly locked it behind them.

Bill had been sitting on the bed, his foot hadn't stopped tapping against the carpeted floor of their hotel room since Richie and Eddie left.

A quiet knock interrupted whatever show they weren’t watching on TV. They both stood Before the door opened, surprised to see their two friends, and their teacher standing at the door.

“H-Hey” Bill said as the two entered the room.

Stan placed the garbage bin on the ground beside him, “Is everything alright?” questioned.

Richie started, “Yep, all is fine-”

“How the hell can you say that?” Eddie ripped his hand from Richie grasp, he shook his entire body as if it would rid himself of the past 10 minutes.

Richie sighed, his temper rising “Eddie can we not right now? We need to get the hell out of here, now”.

“W-Why? What’s guh-going on?” Bill stepped towards them.

“Not now” Richie growled, his yellow eyes practically pierced Bill’s soul, sending shivers down his spine.

“Hey” Eddie grabbed the wolf’s wrist, grabbing his attention. “Let’s go,” He demanded. He nodded his head towards the window.

Without another word the Ancestors stepped up to the window. They opened the latch but the window was sealed shut, Richie barling had to focus to use his strength, opening it with ease while Stan and Bill watched nervously. The moon’s raw power coursed through his veins, the power simply sat at his fingertips now, begging to be used.

Stanley spoke up, concerned about his friends “Wait where are you going-”.

“Stan, cover for us? Alright? And whatever you do, do not talk to Elizah Brightmoon” Richie explained before he stuck his head out the window, the drop was about 20 feet from their second story hotel room. “We can make it,” He said to Eddie who nodded.

Stan’s brow furrowed, “Wait what? Why? She’s the-”.

“She’s the leader of the council” Eddie put it simply, watching Richie stick his legs out the window and sit on the ledge.

No more questions were asked cause right after Richie dropped out of the window. The cool night air rushed past him before he landed on his feet. He took a second to regain his balance. Then he walked away from the hotel to make room for Eddie he watched as his boyfriend lingered momentarily on the window ledge before leaping down and joining Richie.

“What’d they say?” Richie asked as they began walking together towards the beach, away from the town.

“Just Bill being Bill” Eddie sighed, shaking his head.

When Eddie jumped, Bill and Stan rushed to the window and watched as their friend landed on his feet. They studied Eddie and Richie who began walking towards a location they didn’t know.

“They better make it” Stan muttered under his breath, but Bill heard.

“D-Do you know ab-about them?” He turned to face Stan.

“Umm, no?” Stan shrugged, really not wanting to lie.

“That’s such bullsh-hit Stanley and you know it” Bill snapped, he pointed a finger at Stan’s chest.

Stan refrained from meeting Bill’s gaze, instead he looked over his shoulder, out into the property surrounding the town. He caught something out of the corner of the window, someone. “Shit” Stanley cursed. He pushed past Bill to stand in front of the open window.

Bill didn’t wait to find what Stanley was looking at, his brows furrowed as he watched a lady in a long trench coat follow in the same direction that Richie and Eddie went. “Is that-“.

“Yes” The curly haired teen confirmed.

Bill twisted around to face the other, “We need to help them” he said, determination written all over his voice.

“What? But Bill you-“

“They’re still our friends. And they need us” There was no stutter in Bill’s voice.

Stan nodded a little, “Assemble the Losers” He declared.

Word Count: 3524

Guys I cannot believe there are only like 4 chapters left to everfalls, I think- I uh suck at math so enjoy that. But seriously next chapter- the rest of the chapters are all amazing. I mean they're all amazing but the next chapters are the final so they're just insanely better. So be excited for that!

Don't forget to like and comment, it really shows you care and wanna see more! But seriously thank you all for the support I've already gotten cause it means so much to me. Also go check out my new one shot Bubble Baths and Wet Cats, if you like tooth-rotting fluff and cats then that's the fic for you!

That's all from me y'all, so until next time,

So Long and Goodnight!

~

[Taglist]

@richietoaster @s-onora @that-weird-girl-blog @beproudtozier @ghostnebula @bellarosewrites @s-s-georgie @lermanslogan @iamcupcakefrosting @madidraw @gazebobullshit @thoughtfullyyoungduck @aangzukos @ambitiousskychild @reddieonwheels @breadheadscorpius

Let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list!

[metvmorqhoses]

how are you doing, amid current events and all? - a concerned old follower

i’m so grateful for this ask, anon. your concern is heartwarming in this awful situation. i’m luckily currently okay, but i indeed live the center of what soon sadly became an italy-wide red zone of the covid-19 infection.

i have to be honest, things here are quite difficult. my town was one of the few already quarantined a week ago, where the virus hit more strongly. we have the majority of the 15100 infected and the 1100 deaths here, in a rather small portion of territory. life here has become in a matter of hours quite dystopian and surreal, the feeling is to be trapped in a sci-fi movie of which you cannot quite predict the outcome nor play a significant part in, if not passively hope and wait, while taking precautions that are helpful per se, but do not garatee your safety. all this while being scared to death for your loved ones much more than you are for yourself. we hare segregated in our houses (and finally so!) and if we need to go out for food supplies or to walk the dog we need a special permit with us - and we have to go having a mask and glasses on. again, this doesn’t 100% saves you from infection, not to mention masks and disinfectants are nowhere to be found anymore. we cannot hug or kiss and we have to always keep a fair distance to one another. amid all this and the general panic, confusion and isolation, daily we have to face a war bulletin that every day at 6:00 pm tells us an always increasing numer of infections, deaths and recoveries.

that said, i am rather grateful and proud my country is taking these tough decisions and is actually doing something to overcome this most serious pandemic. i’m sourly grateful to see deserted cities and scared faces, because this is the only way to actually save lives and i actually think they should have done all this way earlier.

but even with all this, certain categories of people still have to go to work, even very public ones and unnecessary ones, and the thing is horrific for everyone involved. my mom is a labor union consultant for a really important italian bank, and at all hours of day and evening she’s called by frantic people who daily have to face infected clients walking into their workplaces. they even have to take drugs to keep calm and sleep at night, while banks are not workplaces important for a pandemic survival as a grocery store is.

the situation is really, really tough.

i have already talked about this with my poets some time ago, but i hope you don’t mind if i use your kind ask as an excuse for a moment of information, because quite frankly i’m positively alarmed about how this most tragic, serious situation is being portrayed and dealt with worldwide in the other countries.

no other nation, not even our neighbours, shut anything down. they are allowing life to go on normally, but i assure you they were doing it just the same here - and just ten days ago. they were telling on tv that this was just a bad flu, that only sick or elderly people were at risk, that everything was fine. and look what happened. now everyone is apologizing. the normal flu has a death reate of 0,02% on a span of six months, the covid-19 in china had a 4%, here in italy has almost 10% and in a few months. moreover, most normal flu’s pleumonias are bacterial and can be treated with antibiotics. the covid’s one is viral and isn’t. at some point of the illness serious cases have their lungs not working and they have to be kept alive in intensive care, but the places are numbered. hospitals are collapsing. there is not room for everyone and doctors were told to decide at the moment who to save, based on their odds of survival. this situation is tragic and i have read plenty of data that states that other countries are just a few weeks behind in experiencing all this.

everyone should have immediately take drastic measures to try and lower the infections, if not exstinguish them, yet everyone decided to put economy first and this is the result - and i’m afraid we have not seen the worst of it.

it’s really disturbing to me that even now, with our precedent, countries are basically doing nothing and are not informing their citizens properly.

i have not the presumption to be medically educated enough to substitute your country’s health experts in this, i have merely followed the most authoritative data i could find for a few weeks now, so i think i have quite a picture of the problem by now, and i really hate to have to scare you, but please people, consider all this, consider even the WHO professed itselt deeply concerned about the wolrdwide lack of action most of the countries are showing, and try to protect yourselves nevertheless.

try to avoid crows and gatherings, do not go near people (especially sick ones), wash your hands frequently thoroughly and for an entire minute, when you sneeze or cough do it in a tissue or in your elbow. try to stay isolated and at home as much as possible.

and please take care. we will overcome this. we are all in this together. and i really hope this small, unofficial post can help at least one of you to stay safe. if our govenarments are not helping us, we must help each other.

[recessoyster3]

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Furthermore, SARMs are harder to discover during drug examinations, which, incorporated with fewer side effects, make them a much better alternative for professional athletes. In order to make the most of the extremely considerable bulking results of LGD4033, a dosage of 5-10mg should be taken daily for 8 weeks. To obtain the very best LGD-4033 results for cutting, a dosage of 3-5mg everyday is recommendedn, commonly for an 8 week cycle. LGD has the capability to bind to the AR with an incredibly high affinity. LGD is typically identified as an ARligand that is tissue discerning. It was initially created to treat muscular tissue throwing away in cancer cells patients, age-related muscle mass loss, in addition to severe as well as persistent ailment. Ostarine has a 1 day fifty percent life, so it's unnecessary to break up your everyday dose.

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There are locations that are recommended if you're wanting to acquire SERMS. Since RAD140 is a relatively brand-new supplement, there isn't a great deal of information on the side impacts. Professional research studies have actually revealed that there are no documented negative effects of the supplement. Reggie Johal is the founder of Killer Nourishment, a UK based wellness and supplement shop. Reggie owes much of his comprehensive stamina and also physical fitness expertise to his former occupation as an Excellent Britain American Footballer. The average cycle length is 6 to 10 weeks at a dose range of 10mg to 25mg.

You can discover more regarding the negative actions of these steroids on this site. As their name says, selective androgen receptor modulators act upon bone and also muscular tissue tissues. By triggering receptors on them, these substances boost the development of new cells. They do not bind to androgen receptors on various other organs in the body This characteristic of selectivity is what identifies SARMs from anabolic steroids.

Yet it's difficult to say whether SARMs can have these side effects on everybody, or possibly they must be left out in only certain situations. However, the concept has actually rarely been gone over outside the USA, which may make some people think. There are those that speak out loudly versus utilizing SARMs, yet many researchers as well as authorities are only enjoying closely.

This makes your body with the ability of battling lots of crucial conditions that you can not picture. With this assistance, you have the ability to obtain even more weight as well as can do a health club properly. Nowadays, every person likes to visit the gym as a result of their principles towards their health and wellness. If your dream is to do bodybuilding, after that in the meanwhile, you require a great deal of diet plans because nutrition is a vital part of making the body. There are several products out there with the assistance of which you can quickly do muscle building as well as reach a great degree.

There are some residential or commercial properties inside this medication that assist in enhancing your power degree. After consuming it, the blood flow of your body improves to make sure that you feel energised. As blood flow boosts, the number of white blood cells inside your body boosts, which develops anti-oxidants.

Does caffeine increase hair growth?

But according to research, the caffeine in coffee can help stimulate hair growth and stop hair loss. One 2007 laboratory study found that caffeine helped block the effects of DHT in male hair follicles. It stimulated hair shaft elongation, resulting in longer, wider hair roots.

There is an expanding industry in sports nutrition supplements readily available on the high road and online. They may likewise look for ways to regulate their hunger when they're attempting to reduce weight as component of a body building diet.

MK677 can be made use of constantly for 1-2 years without any problem of a specific ending up being desensitised to it. Nevertheless, it is always important to recognize the opportunities that could accompany usage. It appears by the listing of advantages that MK677 is highly preferable.

[namesoccer01]

Safe Sarms Muscle

Muscle Building And Sporting Activities Supplements.

Content

Skin Problem.

Medications As Well As Supplements.

Api Services & Chemical Growth

Why Are Individuals Using Collagen Peptide Powder Everyday In The Uk?

The testosterone-induced muscle hypertrophy is mostly due to a boost in satellite cell as well as myonuclear number, as well as enhancing the quantity of healthy protein synthesis and also hindering healthy protein destruction. Shop AOD Online is a young entrepreneur, electronic marketing expert and also blog writer. He's creator of TheWebReach.com and offers Digital Advertising and marketing services like Search Engine Optimization, Guest Post, Inbound Marketing as well as much more. He enjoys to aid people to grow their business worldwide via his digital advertising and marketing knowledge. He's enthusiastic about creating blog sites and also writes innovative material for the viewers. If you do not have power in your body, after that you can never ever end up being a bodybuilder, so in truth sense, it is essential to have power.

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Copper Peptides: Benefits for Skin and Hair Care, and How to Use Them - Healthline

Copper Peptides: Benefits for Skin and Hair Care, and How to Use Them.

Posted: Mon, 26 Oct 2020 07:00:00 GMT [source]

Nonetheless, provided the possibility for high estrogen negative effects while making use of ligandrol UK, it is suggested that you purchase anti estrogen supplement. Where Ostarine is among the most effective SARMs to include in a cutting cycle, LGD has actually verified itself as an excellent bulking agent. LGD has a half-life varying in between 24 as well as 36 hrs so daily dosing is optimal. Using cardarine for women, and which for sarms are the best to underpin and all-natural gym regimen. Establish superb tone, strength, and also cut fat utilizing a straightforward women sarms cycle, as well as uncover what dose and also cycle length you need to be making use of. For some background info, i have been raising continually for 3-4 years, gone from pounds at 15% bodyfat. I am doubting whether i need to run a cycle of mk-677 due to the fact that research study seems to verify recovery results on injuries as a result of the boosted growth hormone.

Skin Concern.

This will certainly help increase cardiovascular endurance in order to improve outcomes. Check out our sarms pills for sale to purchase them prior to the stock finishes. S1 has displayed a real capacity to help recover those with debilitating injuries and also to quicken injury recuperation. The helpful results on recuperation make clinical usage highly appealing. Ostarine can and also will certainly reduce your natural testosterone manufacturing in longer, greater dosed cycles, so a serm pct is needed. Ostarine can additionally trigger gyno in some customers, so it is recommended that you have an ai, like exemestane, handy. The addition of ghrp or peptides in the cycle will minimize the threat of injury.

DNP is a commercial chemical that isn't suitable for human consumption. It's highly harmful as well as creates substantial adverse effects, as well as has caused at least 3 reported deaths. Among products that were taken off the market was a steroid product called Celtic Dragon. This item left 2 males hospitalised with serious jaundice and liver damage. " Structure strength takes years, not weeks or months. It's an act of technique as well as must be made with dedication to hard training and a great diet regimen." They're legally readily available to purchase over the counter along with online. Prohibited supplements, consisting of some claiming to be "fat loss" or "slimming", have been connected to a handful of fatalities.

Medications As Well As Supplements.

These advantages, in conjunction with the extremely small opportunity of adverse effects show MK677 to be a breakthrough medicine. Keep in mind that some comparable speculative medications (such as Cardarine/GW, Ibutamoren/ MK-677, and also YK11) are occasionally marketed as SARMS - they aren't yet are still occasionally incorporated right into SARM stacks. A few of these sites supply unlawful products along with lawful weight-loss medicines, making it very tough to tell the difference. Using DNP over a long period of time can cause cataracts as well as peeling skin, and also may trigger damage to the heart and also nervous system. DNP is thought to be especially prominent amongst bodybuilders, that are attracted to its pledges of quick-fix quick weight-loss.

When one takes anabolic steroids, the cells get swamped with androgens, and all receptors become saturated. As a result, a message is sent to all the body cells that cause their growth. This may be an advantage to any person looking to getting muscle mass, however it is a downside at the exact same time. In SARMs, a steroidal agent with anabolic activity imitates testosterone. It boosts lean muscular tissue mass, yet without troubling sex drive and also expanding the prostate. Also, you won't experience loss of hair and also opposite side impacts that anabolic drugs trigger.

This is much easier than having to area out and bear in mind when to take your dosage on a daily basis. It was at first created to treat as well as prevent muscle mass waste among cancer cells as well as weakening of bones patients. It has actually been considered and wanted to be utilized for avoiding muscular tissue degeneration, cachexia and also sarcopnia, as well as has actually additionally been discussed for usage during TRT/HRT. Studies conducted had a dose of between 5-25 mg per day, with 25 mg being one of the most typical as well as efficient dose. MK677 has a 1 day fifty percent life and also showed to be best tolerated by rats when fed to them each early morning on a vacant belly. MK677 has severe benefits in relation to aiding with a much deeper sleep. Nevertheless, it can hinder sleep patterns if taken too late at night or too near bedtime.

Api Solutions & Chemical Development

Dylan - what is the best sarm for recouping from an injury, specifically a lower leg tension fracture? The most effective way to improve fat loss and also muscle mass is to cycle mk-2866 with an additional sarm like gw throughout the cutting phase.

The body doesn't know the distinction in between what it develops naturally or gets from SARMs. All it understands is there is a rise is that production degree and also it is mosting likely to benefit from it. On the flip side, the use of anabolic steroids is going to create the body to quit making testosterone. Therefore, the customer needs to stack with various other items to try to get it launched again. When they are no more taking the steroids, it is still going to take time for the natural production of testosterone to happen once more. Generally, your body regulates the manufacturing of androgens to avoid their imbalance.

Why Are Individuals Using Collagen Peptide Powder Everyday In The Uk?

Stenabolic + growth hormone or andarine s4 + ghrp-6 + cjc-1295 dac to stop injuries as well as accelerate the recovery. You don't have to resemble an average body builder, physical fitness model or athlete; all you got to do is use a SARM. If you have actually not become aware of them or require some even more details, this article will give you with all the details concerning this medicine. They are careful androgen receptor modulators that show the same kind of result as that of androgenic drugs, however the only distinction is that they are more careful in their action. SARMs are chemically comparable to steroids as well as are likewise as effective in enhancing fat loss as well as muscle growth. As long as SARMs advantages are identical to those of anabolic steroids, their discerning activity makes the SARMs negative effects less. It means that as soon as you decide to make use of SARMs, you get to bid bye-bye to hormonal imbalance issues, acne, virilization in females and also prostate problems that can be produced by the use some steroids.

Neuropeptides are the most varied class of signifying molecules in the mind, and also are involved in a broad series of brain features, consisting of analgesia, recreation, discovering and memory, incentive, food consumption and even more.

Pharmaceutical items which imitate the effects of endogenous peptide ligands are call peptidomimetics.

This on a regular basis up-dated website offers a run-through of the synthetic processes associated with manufacturing of stomach peptides, as well as regulation of these procedures.

They differ from peptide hormones because they are produced from nerve cells as well as act locally on adjoining nerve cells, whereas peptide hormonal agents are secreted in to the blood by neuroendocrine cells and act at distant websites.

Neuropeptides are tiny proteinaceous cell-cell signaling particles generated and also launched by neurons.

In addition, SARMs are tougher to identify during medicine examinations, which, integrated with less negative effects, make them a much better option for athletes. In order to benefit from the extremely significant bulking impacts of LGD4033, a dosage of 5-10mg need to be taken daily for 8 weeks. To obtain the most effective LGD-4033 results for reducing, a dose of 3-5mg everyday is recommendedn, normally for an 8 week cycle. LGD has the ability to bind to the AR with an extremely high fondness. LGD is typically identified as an ARligand that is cells selective. It was initially created to treat muscle mass squandering in cancer people, age-related muscle loss, along with severe and also persistent health problem. Ostarine has a 24-hour half life, so it's unneeded to break up your daily dose.

There are places that are recommended if you're looking to purchase SERMS. Considering that RAD140 is a relatively brand-new supplement, there isn't a great deal of info on the side results. Clinical research studies have shown that there are no reported side effects of the supplement. Reggie Johal is the creator of Predator Nourishment, a UK based health and supplement shop. Reggie owes a lot of his substantial stamina as well as physical fitness knowledge to his previous profession as a Fantastic Britain American Footballer. The ordinary cycle size is 6 to 10 weeks at a dose variety of 10mg to 25mg.

You can find out even more concerning the damaging actions of these steroids on this site. As their name states, discerning androgen receptor modulators act upon bone and muscle cells. By triggering receptors on them, these substances promote the growth of brand-new cells. They do not bind to androgen receptors on other organs in the body This quality of selectivity is what differentiates SARMs from anabolic steroids.

However it's impossible to say whether SARMs can have these adverse effects on everybody, or maybe they need to be excluded in only specific cases. Nonetheless, the notion has hardly been talked about outside the U.S.A., which might make some individuals think. There are those that speak up noisally against making use of SARMs, however many scientists as well as authorities are only seeing carefully.

Can you take peptides orally?

Summary: Peptides represent a billion-dollar market in the pharmaceutical industry, but they can generally only be taken as injections to avoid degradation by stomach enzymes. Scientists have now developed a method to generate peptides that resist enzymatic degradation and can be taken orally.

This makes your body capable of combating many vital diseases that you can not visualize. With this help, you have the ability to obtain even more weight and can do a health club properly. Nowadays, everyone suches as to head to the gym as a result of their conscience towards their health and wellness. If your desire is to do body building, after that in the meanwhile, you require a lot of diet plans since nourishment is a vital part of making the body. There are several items out there with the assistance of which you can quickly do body building and get to a great level.

There are some homes inside this medicine that help in increasing your power degree. After consuming it, the blood circulation of your body boosts to ensure that you really feel energised. As blood flow increases, the variety of white blood cells inside your body rises, which develops anti-oxidants.

Does caffeine increase hair growth?

But according to research, the caffeine in coffee can help stimulate hair growth and stop hair loss. One 2007 laboratory study found that caffeine helped block the effects of DHT in male hair follicles. https://pharmalabglobal.com/product-category/tb500/ stimulated hair shaft elongation, resulting in longer, wider hair roots.

There is a growing industry in sports nutrition supplements offered on the high road and online. They may also seek means to manage their cravings when they're trying to reduce weight as part of a muscle building diet regimen.

MK677 can be made use of continuously for 1-2 years without issue of a specific ending up being desensitised to it. However, it is constantly important to recognize the opportunities that could accompany usage. It is evident by the checklist of benefits that MK677 is extremely desirable.

[monstersdownthepath]

Spiritual Spotlight: Grandmother Spider

True Neutral Goddess of Weaving, Illusions, and Family

Domains: Charm, Community, Darkness, Luck, Trickery Subdomains: Curse, Deception, Family, Fate, Night, Thievery

Faiths of Golarion, pg. 11~15

Obedience: Spend an hour weaving something clever and useful that you will use to better your community, incorporating the stories or symbolism of Grandmother Spider. This can be any sort of “weaving,” such as weaving blankets, clothing, or tapestries, or “weaving” a tall tale, elaborate story, or confidence game that teaches someone a valuable lesson. Benefit: Gain a +2 sacred or profane bonus on Bluff and Perform (oratory) checks and on saving throws against illusions.

Aww, how cute! Spending an hour each day crafting a cute little doodad for for your... ... Wait, your community? Adventurers don’t have a community! Oh no!

Nah, kidding, that’s not too much of an impediment unless your DM is especially pedantic. Just making something useful to drop off at the next civilization you visit, or even just for your party members, will likely count for the purposes of this Obedience. Just make sure that whoever receives your gift actually needs it, because otherwise you’re not only not bettering your community, but you’ll likely look like a loon. Also, the fact you can ‘weave’ some tall tales gives you an excellent in-character excuse to actually write little short stories and vignettes to convey moral lessons and share them with your party. It’s an excellent roleplaying moment and can sharpen your skills as a writer and storyteller!

It also means you’re very hard to disarm. Even bereft of materials or bound by rope and chain you can compose your stories in your head to connect yourself with Grandmother Spider, and it also means keeping yourself hidden from unwanted attention (such as that from Asmodeus and his followers) is pathetically easy. Your physical weaving must bear the Grandmother’s markings, but enemies of your faith can’t exactly see your stories as they’re being composed, unless of course you’re writing them down in-character.

Sadly, this benefit is pretty wimpy. Bluff is nice, and a bonus to saves against any and all illusions is pretty sweet, but this bonus is only half as powerful as benefits typically are. I can appreciate you becoming better at actually telling the stories you’re creating, though! It’s cute!

Boons are gathered slowly, typically obtained when a given character has 12, 16, and 20 hit dice. Unlike fiend-worshipers, servants of the Eldest, and devoted of the Empyreal Lords, characters worshiping Neutral gods do not have catch-all classes… but Neutral-aligned characters can enter the Evangelist, Sentinel, and Exalted Prestige Classes earlier than Evil characters, classing in as early as level 6 (they need +5 BAB, 5 ranks in a single skill, or the ability to cast lvl 3 spells); entered ASAP, one can gain the Boons at levels 8, 11, and 14.

———-

EVANGELIST

———-

Boon 1: Charming Sort. Gain Sleep 3/day, Eagle’s Splendor 2/day, or Glibness 1/day.

Good news! Entering Evangelist as early as possible means that Sleep is still useful against encounters you may face, knocking out up to 4 HD of enemies in a single cast and keeping them in dreamland for 1 min/level. Bad news! It’ll struggle to remain viable once you’re up another two levels, because at that point, the DM may begin throwing meatier and meatier encounters after you. It’s certainly a good spell to keep as backup, though, at least until you reach into the 11s and 12s and so on, though by that point you likely have more efficient ways to knock foes out of the fight.

Like avoiding one in the first place. Glibness is, one could say, a strong spell. A +20 to Bluff checks to convince someone what you’re saying is true is usually enough to counteract the penalties you’d normally suffer from, and in fact is exactly enough to cancel out the -20 penalty you’d take trying to convince someone of an impossible lie (beware of telling lies that are instantly disprovable, though). With an absolutely endless 10 min/level duration, Glibness will let you lie your way halfway into a dungeon, and not even magic that forces the truth from you is a guarantee since it must first pass a caster level check against a DC 15 + your caster level to do so. 

That being said, I wouldn’t advise trying to use it to, say, convince the local king that you’re the true heir to his throne, because at that point the court wizard (there is always a court wizard) will likely catch on that something’s wrong and club you over the head with Dispel Magic... especially if this is the second time you try doing something like that. Still, though, it’s a spell whose usefulness is difficult to understate or undersell, especially since Grandmother Spider already prompts you to be deceptive. Eagle’s Splendor’s comparatively paltry +2 to your Bluff is basically nothing when compared to it.

And the best part is that, unlike Sleep, it’s useful at every level!

Boon 2: Storyteller: You gain the Bard’s Fascinating Performance class feature and a number of rounds of Bardic Performance per day equal to your Charisma modifier + your Hit Dice. If you already have Fascinating Performance, your HD is considered to be your Bard level for the purpose of your Fascinating Performance’s save DC and your Bardic Performance rounds per day.

AAHHRUM-hum! Stay a while, and listen.

The save DC to avoid becoming Fascinated is 10 + 1/2 your HD + your Charisma modifier, by the way. You also start with ((HD x 2) + 4 + Cha mod) rounds of Performance! For those of you who’ve never played with or against a Bard, this means that you can now hypnotize entire crowds of people at once, provided they can see and hear you (and aren’t immune to mind-affecting effects, natch). While any immediate threat to your listeners’ person breaks the fascination effect, it does mean you’re the unrivaled king/queen/royal of distractions among your party. You can technically walk into a room and immediately capture them in your web, because so long as combat isn’t initiated and your party doesn’t do anything especially suspicious, any enemy that fails the save is transfixed for however long you can maintain the performance.

While the second part of this ability--merging your total HD together to make sure your performance scales even as you multiclass--seems good on paper, it’s entirely redundant due to the Evangelist’s Aligned Class ability, which merges the Prestige Class and your base class together anyway, earning you an amazing net gain of one (1) additional HD and meaning this ability doesn’t really exist. HOWEVER, if you’re NOT going into Evangelist and are instead keeping the Deific Obedience feat while multiclassing into a different combination, the primary benefit here is that it continues to tick your rounds of Bardic Performance up, one of the most important scaling abilities Bards have. Sadly you get no access to the more advanced performances, but that’s the sacrifice you make to serve the Grandmother.

Also, if you’re remaining a pure Bard, this ability indeed does not exist at all. oof.

Boon 3: One With The Night: You gain darkvision with a range of 30 feet, or extend your existing darkvision by 30 feet. You need only half the normal amount of sleep or rest each day to avoid becoming fatigued.

...

really

I don’t want to be nasty to dear Grandmother Spider, but with such an ominously named ability, you’d be lead to believe it grants some form of invisibility or somesuch. Not so; it merely grants you darkvision, something you’ll either have or have easy access to by level 14, and while needing only half as much rest to keep yourself running is nice, it’s severely underpowered compared to most final Boons.

Especially since the rest of your party likely requires their full 8 hours of sleep anyway, so it can be difficult for you to find a way to make use of your extra hours. I suggest taking up crafting, to be honest; you’re doing it anyway, may as well craft magic items too! Especially potions, some of which can be crafted in just 4 hours!

Despite that, though, this is still a disappointing and tragically weak Boon, especially compared with everything else Grandma gives to her followers...

———-

EXALTED

———-

Boon 1: The Weaver: Gain Silent Image 3/day, Minor Image 2/day, or Borrow Fortune 1/day.

I’m not going to comment on Borrow Fortune, as it’s just a plain terrible spell. You can reroll a single d20 at the cost of causing Misfortune (roll twice, take lower) on yourself on every single roll you make for the next two rounds. No thanks!

SIlent and Minor Image both fill a similar niche, one that greatly rewards creative thinking. Their enormous areas of effect (four 10ft cubes + one more cube per level) lets you cause some serious shenanigans. Silent Image alone can be used, among other things, to create fields of statues, walls where there weren’t, the image of several siege engines or monstrous backup soldiers (in case an enemy is viewing you from afar), thorny or hazardous barriers, impossibly deep ‘pits,’ and other such hazards that can make your enemies hesitate to approach you. I especially enjoy the possibility of squeezing your party against a wall and then projecting the image of a wall in front of you to hide from pursuers--it’s an old trick, but an effective and reliable tactic!

Minor Image allows your projections to make noise, meaning “summoning” illusory monsters, fires, machines, or other such things becomes far more viable. Even in combat, an enemy suddenly having some horrifying monster appear in front of them can make them pause when they can’t be sure it’s an illusion. Since spell-likes have no components onlookers can be more easily convinced that what they see is real, especially if you mime casting a more dangerous spell. You can even have your illusions pop up in your wake without moving an inch! The applications of these spells are limitless for people who enjoy playing tricksters and deceivers, and both of them have their advantages (Silent Image, mainly, being usable one more time each day), so pick the one that works best with your shenanigans!

Boon 2: Inspired Illusionist: Illusion spells from the Figment and Glamer subschool that you cast last twice as long, as if affected by Extend Spell. They cannot be affected by the Extend Spell Metamagic feat. In addition, the following spells are added to your spells known: Silent Image, Minor Image, Major Image, Hallucinatory Terrain, Persistent Image, Project Image, and Screen.

All of those spells are figments and glamers, of course.

Mmm, free feats! Sort of! It’s not really a feat, but imitates one, doubling the duration of your illusions to give them some serious staying power. While you’ll rarely need an illusion for such a long time, some spells require you to concentrate on them to maintain their effects but have a small window of time where their effects sustain themselves when you lose concentration, typically just 2 or 3 rounds. Doubling this time means anything you conjure in combat will likely stay in place for its duration, allowing you to ‘fire and forget’ your figments and concentrate on ones that will actually cause pain.

Alternately, this will let you mix your illusions with other spells you cast to make it even more realistic!

Also, note that while most projections are figments, glamers include such treasures as Disguise Self and Invisibility, as well as all of its offshoots (Greater, Mass, etc). Doubling the duration of Mass Invisibility without needing a higher level spell slot can absolutely trivialize some stealth missions, letting you and your party stay hidden until everyone is in position. Invisibility already lasts for a full minute per level, and doubling that just makes it ridiculous.

ALSO also, free spells! They’re added right to your spells known list so Oracles don’t even have to worry about giving up their precious spells known slots! AND they’re some of the best Illusion spells you could ask for! If only she gave you Mirage Arcana... Oh, it does bear mentioning that the spells are added to your spell list; they’re not spell-likes! In fact, it’s up to the DM whether or not your illusory spell-like abilities are actually affected by this ability, because normally you need the Extend Spell-Like Ability feat to do so, while this ability only replicates Extend Spell. Something to discuss!

Boon 3: Willful Weaver: 3/day, you may use illusions to mimic certain Conjuration or Evocation spells, as if using Greater Shadow Conjuration or Shadow Evocation.

I love Boons like this, because they’re powerful! But I also hate Boons like this, because they’re difficult to talk about! It’s like someone handing you a toolbox filled to bursting with whatever you could ask for and then telling you to describe the functions of each one and what sorts of problems you could solve with it. Rather than going on for eighty paragraphs about it, I’ll simply cover two or three spells each one can replicate, and leave the rest up to you! And always, always remember that spell-likes can be cast without components, meaning that even if you’re tied up or at the mercy of a villain, you can still call for aid from the Plane of Shadow.

Greater Shadow Conjuration lets you mimic any 6th or lower Conjuration (Creation) or Conjuration (Summoning) spell from the Wizard or Sorcerer spell lists, such as Wall of Iron, Summon Monster VI, or Acid Fog. Creatures who succeed on the Will save needed to see through the illusions only take 60% of the damage the spell would normally deal, or are only affected by the special effects and abilities of the spell (or creature it summons) 60% of the time. If the poor fool fails its Will save, however, it treats the conjured creature or item as if it were completely real. Note that Greater Shadow Conjuration does not require any components of the original spell, letting you replicate spells that normally have costly components for free!

Shadow Evocation can mimic the effects of any 4th level or lower Evocation spell from the Wiz/Sorc list, such as Wall of Fire, Fireball, or Resilient Sphere. Sadly, it’s much more gracious with people who manage to see through it; people who succeed on the Will save to see through the illusion take only 20% of the damage they would have been dealt, and have only a 20% chance to be affected by any non-damaging effect it may have. This is in addition to whatever reductions may be in place if they succeed the save against the original spell, as well. Failing the Will save makes them treat the spell as real, of course, and as with GSC, your illusory replication requires no components, letting you throw around spells you’d normally hesitate to because of their price tag.

Now THIS is how you do a Boon! Excellent! Now, lets see about the Sentinel...

———-

SENTINEL

———-

Boon 1: Trapper. Gain Animate Rope 3/day, Web 2/day, or Spiked Pit 1/day.

Animate Rope’s a bit niche here, and it’s competing with Web, so unfortunately it’s going to have to get pushed off the table a bit. Its uses out of combat aren’t particularly astonishing, and its uses in combat are done better by Web in almost all situations, anyway.

Few things can gum up a pitched battle than a huge swath of the terrain suddenly being replaced with an impassable tangle of sticky fibers, grappling anyone who fails a Reflex save and becoming difficult terrain and partial cover for all creatures who succeed. The fact it needs to be anchored between two points means it can’t be used in every situation, but more often than not, combat scenarios you get trapped in will likely have plenty of spots to hang your webs from. Two walls count as anchor points! As does a ceiling and a floor--your Web doesn’t need to be places horizontally!

Spiked Pit is a nasty spell, conjuring a 10x10 extradimensional hole that’s 50 feet deep, lined with deadly spikes. One can think of it like a pseudo Save-or-Suck, capable of taking any foe that fits inside the entry hole out of the fight for its entire duration if they aren’t good at the whole climbing bit. The DC to scale a Spiked Pit is 20, and few creatures--especially humanoids--will actually bother putting the ranks in Climb they’ll need to make their way out with any sort of expediency. Not to mention, the spines will be clawing 1d6 chunks per round out of any creature that remains in the pit; it’s not much damage, but it’s damage they cannot avoid taking so long as they remain in the conjured hole.

Plus, you can throw more people into it! 50ft is a lot of storage space!

One niche spell, and two really good area control spells. The Grandmother certainly blesses her Sentinels!

Boon 2: Net Master: You gain Net Adept as a bonus feat, ignoring its prerequisites. If you already have Net Adept, you instead gain a +1 sacred or profane bonus to attack rolls with a net. In addition, if you are wielding a net one-handed and have nothing in your off hand, you gain a +1 shield bonus to AC.

As with the case of Ahriman, if you’re truly the kind of person who wants to use your god’s sacred weapon, you likely already have the feats you need to make it effective, especially since Net Adept can be taken as early as level 1.

Net Adept lets you use a net as a melee weapon with a 10ft reach, meaning you possess an huge threat radius (for a player)... with a weapon that deals no damage. Don’t get me wrong, nets are handy! They tangle and impede anyone you hit with a ranged touch attack, potentially tethering them to you until they manage to escape, but there’s only so much you can do with just a net on its own. While this ability encourages you to avoid wielding another weapon to get that free AC, a net is best used with something small and stabby/large and crushy that you can malice your trapped target with. A bludgeoning instrument is especially useful here, as it’s less likely to actually tear at your webbing while you slowly render your tangled foe into a fine paste. The +1 AC usually isn’t attractive enough to give up when compared to actually doing something about your snared victim. 

Being a Net Master does mean that you’re amazing at keeping anyone from getting away from you. with people trying to flee your 10ft reach drawing your Attacks of Opportunity and getting snagged for their troubles... But, again, you can be a Net Adept as early as level 1 compared to this ability coming online at level 11 at the earliest, at which point all this ability really does is give you +1 to your attack rolls with nets and encourages you to not wield a weapon in your offhand. Not a good look! Unless you plan on taking people alive, of course, but pfffpt, who does that?

Boon 3: Binding Strike: Upon confirming a critical hit against an enemy, you can choose to entangle the enemy in sticky webs rather than dealing any extra damage. This acts as Hold Monster, with a caster level equal to your HD. You may use this ability a number of times per day equal to your Charisma modifier (min 1).

No saving throw, by the way! Confirming the critical hit is good enough in this case, the monster ending up smashed by the effect even if they’d normally have sky-high saves. Hold Monster lasts 1 round/level, essentially meaning whoever you hit with this is out of the fight for good, especially if you or an ally can follow up with a coup de grace afterwords. Its uses per day are unfortunately tied to Charisma, a stat the Sentinel will likely have little use for, but knowing you’re going to get this ability ahead of time allows you to plan for it! Don’t dump Cha!

Unlike with Yhidothrus’ second Sentinel Boon, it can be quite easy for a Sentinel of Grandmother Spider to justify giving up the juicy extra damage of a critical hit for a secondary effect, since this secondary effect more or less deals infinite damage--in that whoever’s hit by it is gone for over a minute. LIKE the Ravager Worm’s Sentinel Boon, though, Hold Monster simply fails to work against a lot of enemies you’d often really like it to work against; once you hit the middle-high levels, you’re likely to start facing threats from less human adversaries. Constructs, Dragons, Oozes, Plants, Undead, AND Vermin outright ignore this ability, a full 6 of 13 creature types! (and one common creature subtype--Elementals!) While you’re likely to be facing mostly Humanoids or Monstrous Humanoids, the fact this ability falters against such a huge number of different foes can be discouraging.

And piling on top of all of this, again, is the fact you have to land a successfully confirmed critical hit to see it come into play at all, something that’s entirely luck-based. When it lands it’s GLORIOUS! But if the dice are against you, you may never see it when you really, really need to. I’m not a fan of Boons that trigger randomly!

Looks like the Exalted win this round!

You can read more about her here.

[potestessemagishomosexualitatis]

Tangled In Your Heartstrings: Bonus Material

I came up with a whole load of headcanons writing my witch/vampire Secret Santa fic that didn’t make the final cut, so here they are:

The World & Fae

Many different kinds of magic and magical creatures exist in this world, and have been known about by humans for all of human history.

As a rule of thumb, anything that would be illegal to do by non-magical means and/or is obviously immoral is illegal under human law. How much non-humans feel bound by this law varies.

Some magical creatures (”the undead”) were once human. This includes vampires, weres (as in werewolves, werecoyotes, etc.), ghouls and more. Others, including the fae, are distinct species.

Witches are not a separate species, but is a term for humans or undead who have been trained in the use of magic. Every person has some innate magical potential, but how much varies; nearly all humans (or former humans) need training to be able to consciously tap into their power.

Patton, Emile and Deceit are all trained witches with different specialities. Patton and Emile, as professional witches, have formal qualifications to prove they have completed their apprenticeships to a satisfactory level; Deceit has been a witch since before such qualifications existed, but did complete a similar kind of training when he first learned magic. (The apprenticeship tradition of witchcraft dates back hundreds of years.)

There are also higher qualifications for witchcraft that are equivalent to Masters degrees and doctorates. Emile is currently writing his doctoral dissertation on the uses of aura-reading in a therapeutic context.

Fae, on the other hand, are born with magical abilities, which they master during childhood. However, fae magical powers are different from what a witch can do, and are primarily nature-based. They also have a natural talent for enchanting people.

In case it wasn’t clear: Roman, like all fae in this world, is human-sized and has butterfly-type wings on his back, albeit much less fragile than a butterfly’s would be. Finding clothing that fits can be a challenge.

Most fae live in a parallel universe (called “fairyland” in common parlance) and only infrequently travel to the human world, normally preferring nature and outdoor spaces. Fae are big fans of music, art and poetry and have a bad reputation for kidnapping humans they find pretty or who have artistic talent.

Most fae don’t feel beholden to mortal law as they can usually return to fairyland to escape justice, but the rare few who choose to integrate with human society (like Roman) have to obey it.

Fae age slowly, reaching young adulthood at around 150 years old. At this point they stop ageing physically, and they cannot die of old age. However they are still vulnerable to injury, particularly by silver and iron.

Fae are strictly herbivorous, and often eat flowers.

Vampire Lore

Vampires in this universe feed off of “life energy” with blood acting as a conduit. Fresh blood retains more life energy than old blood, and human has more than animal, synthetic blood substitutes (created by magic) barely have any.

A typical healthy vampire feeding schedule is one portion of animal blood daily, supplemented by live human feeds on a weekly-to-monthly basis.

Donors can safely feed a vampire once every 4-6 weeks (it takes less than a typical blood donation) but should be monitored for signs of anaemia. Because Patton is Virgil’s thrall, Virgil can draw on his life energy more efficiently and takes less blood to be satiated, so he can feed from Patton more often (every 3 weeks).

Fae and (most) other magical creatures can be donors too. However, their magical nature can interfere with the energy transfer, making them a less predictable food source. In an emergency, a vampire could feed off another vampire, but because the energy transfer is not 100% efficient there are diminishing returns for this.

Most vampire covens will develop a network of donors that they work with, normally 2-3 per vampire member. Some donors work exclusively with one vampire, others are happy to donate to whoever is in need in a coven.

Feeding normally feels very intimate for the vampire in question, so vamps are often picky about who they will feed from and are reluctant to risk losing a donor to another vampire. In the past, vampires getting “territorial” over donors has been the starting point of several major conflicts between covens.

There are also professional services that will let vampires hire a donor. However, these have a somewhat shady reputation for pushing people to donate more often than is healthy and skimping on disease screening.

Vampires can catch and spread bloodbourne diseases! This is an area Logan is researching (see below) but the need for costly screening is why most vamps feed primarily from animal blood and donors they know well. There are clinics which offer blood screening for live donors.

Beyond feeding: a vampire at full strength can heal almost any injury in a matter of minutes, although doing so will rapidly drain their energy reserves. Traditional vampire weaknesses (e.g. stake through the heart, sunlight) can weaken them, slow healing, or cause them to temporarily discorporate but will not kill them outright.

Vampires typically live in covens of around 5-8 members who share a territory and often (but not always) a living space. Newer members are more likely to live with the coven leader while they are learning, while older ones might move out to live independently or leave to live alone/start their own coven.

Vampire homes typically have numerous adaptations to protect them from sunlight during daytime hours - minimal windows, black-out curtains and shutters, etc. These technologies have allowed beds to overtake coffins as the preferred sleeping space. (Patton’s spare room, primarily used by Logan and Deceit, has blackout curtains and shutters installed before Virgil’s arrival.)

Vampires are naturally nocturnal, but as with humans, they may awake during daylight hours for a number of reasons. Human business hours are a source of some consternation; vampire-friendly shops, libraries etc. will offer opening hours in the early evening through to around midnight or 1am to allow for nocturnal customers.

For the same reason, many vampires are self-employed or work in professions where they can set their own hours. Many covens are wealthy enough that their members do not have to find work, although many vampires enjoy having some kind of occupation to fill their time.

A larger coven also typically has at least one human living with them to help with whatever tasks vampires cannot do (e.g. answering the door during the daytime). These are often donors, for convenience reasons, but the majority of donors won’t live with a coven. Seth is a human donor who splits his time between Logan & Deceit’s coven and his own place.

Vampires are considered to have a solemn responsibility to their fledges (vampires they have turned), acting as mentors and protectors as they adjust to their new lifestyle. Turning a vampire is considered a major committent and normally involves discussion with the whole coven; life-or-death situations are the main exception to this, but even in these cases it is considered generous to intervene, not a requirement.

Backstory

Logan was a haematologist before he was a vampire. He was a grad student studying bloodbourne illnesses and ways of screening donor blood more efficiently when he attracted the attention of Deceit.

Deceit, normally wearing his “acceptable-to-mortals” disguise (the unremarkable face he shows Virgil) is a prominent and wealthy coven leader who was considering making a donation to Logan’s university. He got intrigued by Logan and wound up offering to collaborate on a project with him.

By the end of the project the two had fallen for one another. They dated for a few years while Logan was still human, and then Deceit briefly did the “how can I curse him to share my horrible undead existence?” thing before Logan basically told him to hurry up and make with the eternal youth already.

Deceit was turned in the 1920s, although he often pretends to be much older. At around 120 years old he’s unusually young to be leading his own coven already, but is by all accounts very good at it. He has not yet told me how he got his scars.

Deceit was the first witch Patton ever got to know and by exposing him to the magical world this piqued his curiosity. He began dabbling with witchcraft, trained under Emile for part of his apprenticeship, and after they became good friends Patton asked if he could stay on at the shop after qualifying.

Patton and Roman met and fell in love several years ago while Roman was visiting the mortal world, and he decided to stay for Patton. Roman was already a musician/actor in the fae world and was delighted to learn that this could count as the pesky “job” mortals insist on him having.

Virgil’s parents were anti-undead bigots; he let himself be dragged along to protests etc. because he had been raised that way and didn’t really know better. The night he died, he was unwillingly at a protest outside a pro-vampire rights speech Deceit was making.

Virgil woke up alone in a hospital to learn that his family had already disinherited him. Deceit stopped by to offer him a place in the coven but he didn’t want to hear it; however, he barely had any savings and wound up on the streets almost immediately.

Because of how traumatised he was by his turning, Virgil never properly learned how often he needed to feed or what the danger signs were. He began skipping feeds due to a combination of lack of funds and his disgust at his own vampirism, leading to him becoming dangerously malnourished by the start of the fic.

The reason that Patton’s spell accidentally replicated the thrall binding ritual is because he used life magic on a vampire, an undead creature that inherently feeds on that energy. It worked a little too well at mimicking the effects of feeding and instead magically tied a part of Patton’s life essence to Virgil’s hunger-for-life-essence.

The thrall spell was “designed” to create well-controlled servants/donors for vampires (and would therefore be considered seriously illegal to perform intentionally, since there are laws about magically controlling people), but there are variants (mentioned in chapter 5) that are intended to be more like a soul bond/magical marriage. Virgil rejected these initially because they make the bond unbreakable (even if Patton became undead) but the couple might consider them in future.

Possible Future

I reserve the right to change my mind about any/all of this if I choose to write more in this AU (and the same goes for everything else here, actually).

Roman and Virgil start dating not too long after the final chapter.

Virgil completes his witch apprenticeship with flying colours. He has a particular affinity for divination and for drawing wards.

As predicted in the fic, Patton will eventually choose to become immortal in order to stay with his family for the rest of their lives. There are ways to do this using fae magic or witchcraft but both are risky; he is far more likely to ask Virgil to turn him into a vampire.

(If I write a follow-up fic, it will probably be about this.)

Patton and Virgil will eventually open up a witchcraft shop together! It definitely has a groan-worthy pun as a name but I haven’t worked out what yet.

Patton, Virgil and Roman initially have a three-way wedding in the fae tradition, since it isn’t legal for humans to marry multiple people. They have a human one too when that is eventually legalised.

[sparrow-ink]

covid diaries aka memoirs of the plague

trying to keep my thoughts organized and coherent has been a bitch recently, so i’m going to try to put them down more or less in order here and see where we end up. this is going to be heavy on personal covid content and might get long, so please skip if either distresses you.

so last tues, the uh... 24th i guess, i started feeling ill. mostly like allergies plus a bad headache. i had a feeling i was getting sick but didn’t want to alarm my spouse or housemate/best friend, so stuck with ‘could very well be allergies and dehydration.’ also it very well could have been, and it was very reassuring for us all to tell each other that. my company had already moved the majority of employees to work-from-home, including me, so i already wasn’t going to come into contact with anyone outside my home.

symptoms got worse over the next few days, congestion, headache, feeling feverish, cough started up. we didn’t own a thermometer, and my spouse and housemate tried every wal-mart, wal-greens, target, etc to find one. housemate said at one place they laughed at her when she asked if they had any. i tried ordering one on amazon with no luck. either they were $90+, out of stock, or not shipping until may. i settled on ordering on for shipment in may. the seller messaged me the next day and said they couldn’t fulfill the order and asked to cancel it.

from our last costco trip we had already (unintentionally) gotten stocked up on toilet paper, snacks, and some dry goods. at some point before I got sick, spouse and I bought a bag of rice and bag of potatoes, because I intermittently try to do mealprepping and seemed being stuck at home would be a good time to try again, what with national and state-wide states of emergency being declared. also seemed good to have them in supply. and we were still stocked up on cold and flu medecine from when i got bronchitis mid-dec to mid-jan. so we were/are pretty well-stocked on essentials? that was reassuring, as i was obviously, noticeably sick by last friday.

i was hoping i would get better over the weekend but i did not. still couldn’t find a thermometer anywhere. governor had issued the state-wide stay-at-home order on uh...thurs? weds? but already being sick, and already working from home, and not going out, it didn’t really affect me much?

i feel like i should mention at this point that since the state of emergency was declared and we started to transition to working from home, i’d been trying to ration my social media (tumblr/twitter/insta) time for my sanity. but also not having information makes me feel helpless, so i had the CDC covid page up and checked every day. and then the colorado state covid page too. seeing the numbers of confirmed cases double, and triple, from week to week was... hm.

also one of my younger siblings moved from colorado to arizona at the start of march, and presumably lost their phone because i haven’t heard from them since despite poking. that hasn’t been concerning during a global pandemic. not at all. they’re probably not dead. i mean, you’d think a bitch could call their older sibling to let them know they’re not dead, but whatever. i’m sure they’re fine. probably. anyway.

where was i. so by the weekend i was Not Feeling Well At All Actually. my cough had become “scary.” my housemate did all the dishes in the kitchen despite not being responsible for most of them. i felt, and sounded, disgusting.

i checked the covid testing requirements again, and basically found that in colorado you had to be dying to be tested for covid. cool.

monday rolled around, still not better. i ended up having work computer issues (their end, not mine) where i basically ended up laying on the couch in my office while IT did IT things. a blessing. i slogged through the rest of the day. just felt like i wasn’t tracking well, couldn’t focus on shit. that evening while watching shows with husbeast & housemate, i had a truly uncontrollable coughing spasm/fit that seemed to just go on. could barely talk without coughing. i coughed all night. i basically didn’t sleep.

tuesday morning i woke up, and started coughing again. i could hear a crackle echo up my throat when i breathed if i was in the right position. i sat up to try and get my breath. i think it was like 6 am. spouse creature (already awake from my coughing) gently rubbed my back. i started crying. i just wanted to sleep, and i couldn’t sleep, and i couldn’t stop coughing, and i felt like i could barely breathe, and things just hurt, and i couldn’t think straight. i felt so... defeated. i think it freaked out the spouse creature. i usually only cry during children’s movies.

i took the day off of work. i hadn’t taken a day yet because i was already working from home, and it was the end of the month which is the busiest for my team, and my boss had said last week that if i felt i could work, they needed me. by tuesday morning i was out of energy and also fucks. i got in the queue for a teladoc appointment. per the CDC and colorado covid websites, telehealth visits are to be the first option in order to help prevent the spread, etc. also i would have done teladoc anyway bc i don’t have a PCP.

it took a few hours to get connected with a doctor. i think i started coughing while he did his intro thing. he basically said, well i think i know what you’re calling about, but why don’t you tell me. i told him. and coughed some more. he said my symptoms are consistent with covid, and in a perfect world they’d be able to get me in for rapid testing, but they couldn’t. that basically people are only getting tested at this point who are getting admitted to the hospital. some people were able to access testing through their PCPs but even that was drying up. he advised me to self-isolate (already on it lol) and for my household to self-quarantine for at least two weeks from when i started showing symptoms. and i could un-self-isolate once the majority of my symptoms calmed down AND when i didn’t have a fever for three days straight with no meds. he prescribed me an inhaler and a cough suppressant pill, though he said the cough suppressant might not do much since it didn’t seem to be working for anyone else with similar.

husbeast had run out to get some more supplies by the time i got on the vidcall with the doc, mostly liquids and electrolytes. he went back out once i gave him the rundown, to fill my prescription and get me the good costco chicken soup once they were open. he also, miracle of miracles, managed to find and buy a temporal thermometer at costco for like $45 i think. a true champion. my temp seemed to be fine in the afternoon, a touch above normal but fine. i’m not actually sure what my personal base temperature is. i should also say that i’d been consistently taking dayquil and sudafed since the previous weds.

that evening my temp started to go up. and up. or at least i think it was tuesday night. maybe it was weds? freaked out spouse, i got up to 102 F even with sudafed and additional acetaminophen. i basically had a fever from tues through this morning (friday), while taking pills like clockwork. always seemed to get worse in the afternoon/evening and be better in the morning. today at least it’s stayed below 100F, even mostly below 99F.

the cough and difficulty breathing has been the worst part. i have delicate baby lungs to begin with, and i have allergies and a history of childhood asthma. so i’m already paranoid about my breathing even with a normal cold. but to hear that i would have to immediately proceed to emergency services should my symptoms progress to: can only get a few words out, can’t stand up or walk across the room, can’t maintain conciousness, to hear that was... something. because then it’s basically like, okay, if I get pneumonia and my lungs are filling up, then i can go see a doctor in person. cool. and i know it says on the websites that there’s no approved treatment for coronavirus, that treatment for less severe cases will be the same at home as it would be in person, but shit. i woke up so many times last night feeling like i was fighting for air, waking up because i was coughing so hard i had to sit up all the way to breathe, and i kept thinking, what if i just stop breathing in my sleep? not like i would notice, right?

it’s been scary. i’ve been trying not to freak out my people with more crying and whatnot, but i’ve already got anxiety and this shit aint helping. i’m trying to stay relatively calm and not make them deal with me losing my shit on top of already taking care of me and bringing me soup and water and pills and asking what they can do for me. i’m tired of being sick. i want a new pair of lungs. i want to not feel like i’ve been hit by a truck. my ribs hurt from coughing so much. my chest hurts. my whole body aches. the headache keeps coming and going. i can’t stop fucking coughing. i don’t want to die, i just want to maybe go into a coma and wake up when this is all over. once the line of dump trucks has stopped running me over.

and i’m just so mad at the lack of preparedness in the US. i’m so pissed that i can’t even get tested, i can’t know for sure what the fuck is happening to me. i’m so mad that the cheeto is president during this. i hate this fucking timeline. i hate that we don’t even have clear numbers on cases because of mismanagement. i hate that i keep feeling like i’m about to throw up because i’m coughing so fucking hard. real fucking reassuring to know that the symptoms i’ve been told to watch for, to know that i need to go to the hospital, are the same ones that constitute an emergency and would mean that i would basically have to be rushed there. wearing a facemask if we can find one.

ugh. the other worst part is that i haven’t even been really coherent enough to write. and i’ve only been able to settle on a few things to read and watch. being sick makes me picky and like, impossible to please. so i’m spoiled for choice with 4+ streaming services, but nothing sounds good. and my people are working from home, but they’re still working. they can’t spend all their time with me. i’m bored, and everything is garbage, and there are only so many times i can rewatch the princess bride. i have been napping quite a lot, but even that doesn’t take all day.

maybe i’ll write some crackfic. then it doesn’t have to be coherent. and it would be in the spirit of covid to write some real absurd shit i think.

anyway. i might delete this later. i feel better for getting events put down and venting.  also i apologize, i have no idea how to do a readmore cut on tumblr anymore.

[sullendolls]

10/July/XX

This was supposed to be a food log but my mind is rlly messy rn needed to clear my mind and writing helps.

okay, let's get the bad stuff out of my brain. Today was pretty bad, but I'm pretty sure I'm below 1500 calories, definitely lower than my BMR. I think that's safe. Besides I might as well take this chance to eat healthy and lose weight in a better way. Though I can't wait for life to go back to normal, and I can start restricting the "right way" again. I tried to take a nap after lunch today, since I was extremely tired and my eyes were sore and my head hurt. Guess that's what happens when your screen time is like 8 hours per day.

Besides, I've been sleeping for 5 hours a day the past week. I need to reduce that number to 4, so I'll do my best to stay up till 1. I've got an exam next week, I can't flunk it again. Anyway, I could barely sleep. I couldn't stop thinking about how fat I was, how uncomfortable and suffocating I felt, how desperately I wanted to be skinny... The list could go on. I tried to make the best of it and try this meditation kinda thing my yoga teacher taught us at school. We'd usually have yoga at the end of the day, so it was rather relaxing. I'd like to explain it, but I really suck at detailing so let's forget about that. So yeah I did fall asleep after an hour or so but then my cousin woke me up. I'm glad she did; she wanted to show me something. Turns out this bush in our garden were full of baby caterpillars. Guess they're at the state where they're black, almost turning brown. Idk what butterflies they'll be, I'm excited to find out. We're thinking of documenting the life cycle

Speaking of insects, fireflies visit our house often. I'd first seen a firefly when I was 6? And thought I'd never see one again until last month. It was the night my grandfather passed away. My cousin and I were in my grandmother's room in the dark. And we saw the firefly. Very timely huh. Since then, I see them around almost every night. We've got a small pond kinda thing... More of an open aquarium? IDK what it is but it's got some small fishes. And two turtles. One of them huge and light brown, the other the size of a palm, black with yellow patterns (patterns? I can't think of the right word) So yeah it's the rainy season so this fucking toad lays it's eggs in the pond and they've hatched now so it's FULL of tadpoles if I had to make an estimate, I'd say 1000. We weed them out with a net every morning, but I guess we'll let the rest stay. Anyway if they ALL do become toads it's gonna be bad.

HOLY HELL I DID NOT REALIZE I WROTE SO MUCH I really gotta get studying. I've got class tomorrow and it sucks :((((( But I'll deal with it. Do well at school I guess. Make myself a career. Weight loss can wait. I've got my college years. I'm sure my metabolism won't be much worse in my 20s. Rapid weight loss won't do me any good right now. I think I'm satisfied with just staying the same weight and having a healthier relationship with food, i.e. not binging. Remember, consistency is key! If I stay at 1000 every day I'd lose at least 1 kg a month. I'm only 6 kgs away from my current goal weight. It's okay if results are slow. I'll wait. (k the ana is definitely not in my head rn I'm so happy better enjoy the feeling while it lasts)

[prorevenge]

Sergeant DGAF 'Bout Your Emergency

So this started more than a decade ago, but I remember (most of) it like yesterday. It is my own story, and I tell this from my perspective. This is a long story, but I promise you will be staring at the screen, thinking “dafuq?” by midway through.

Background

Early 2000s. I was in the military, mid 20s, stationed somewhere in Europe. Rank E-4. It’s a bit different when you’re stationed overseas, and your squadron basically becomes your extended family. The Mission is always priority #1, but everyone tries to go the extra mile to make sure their people are taken care of. This was my second assignment, and my second overseas assignment.

I had just gotten married when I was on an extended leave back in the States, during my PCS (Permanent Change of Station; officially changing your assigned base) to this new location. I became an instant father overnight, now having a wife and a 3-year-old (step) daughter when I had none before. My wife became pregnant with our son about 5 months later.

My new supervisor was a Master Sergeant, who I will call Bastar(d) Sergeant [sic], or BS, for the rest of this. Bastar-Sergeant the Master Sergeant.

BS was a family man, married for a while (about ~15 years or so) and had two kids with his wife, as well as two kids of his own from a previous marriage, with his wife ALSO having two kids from a previous marriage. This is relevant because BS, being a family man with six kids ages 4 to 17, often would have stuff going on with his family and need to cut out early, miss morning briefings, and so on.

It was no big deal if we weren’t working on mission critical stuff. It’s rough when the nearest military hospital is 30-45 mins away at another military facility and you can only depend on your own immediate family and fellow military members. Just about everyone, BS especially with his larger family, had to cut in and out of work fairly frequently when we didn’t have big things going on. But hey, take care of your people, they’ll take care of the mission.

Now, BS and I got along really well at first. He and his wife were both quite the “socialites” and would constantly – damn near every weekend – have parties at their house and invite people over. It was fun at first, but it really grew tiresome. Being a new family man myself, and really just starting to figuring it all out (translated: how to keep your wife happy and not both be miserable, while still trying to be a functional adult in the military), and I just could NOT keep up with the party-every-weekend lifestyle.

BS and Mrs. BS drank a lot at those parties, too. You could tell it took a toll on their health. I guess that might be tempting with that many kids, and a 17-turning-18 daughter that had just gotten pregnant with her foreign boyfriend, but I digress…

Like I said, I just couldn’t keep up, not every weekend. I slowly fell out of favor with BS and his “Good ol’ Boys Club.” He wasn’t hostile per-se, but there were times he would just get mean, and with increasing frequency. He would call me into his office for tiny things, like thinking I had shown up to work late, when I could prove that I had been logged in on my terminal 10 minutes before start time – meaning I was at least 15-20 mins early due to walking times, putting my coat and stuff in lockers, etc. But my terminal’s clock, synched with the atomic clock, didn’t matter compared to his clock on the wall.

I was also called out for attending big medical appointments for my wife’s pregnancy, like being there when they determined my son was a boy – I was called out specifically when everyone else was doing the same thing.

The assignment was slowly turning into hell. Meanwhile, the members of the Good ol’ Boys Club would often be very late (without phoning), constantly going to appointments, and so on. There was definitely some favoritism going on. But in such a small unit, overseas, what can you do? The guy was even buddy-buddy with the First Sergeant, and they had been friends since bootcamp.

Anyway, enough background. Onward!

​

The Main Event

This is where things got crazy. My son had just been born, healthy and at a good weight, not even two weeks earlier. I came home from work after a very long day, about 13 hours on a normal 8 hour shift, due to some stuff breaking.

My wife was exhausted because she was still healing from the birth, and our son had gotten really, really cranky and irritable through the day. He was non-stop fussing and feeling slightly warmer, but not quite running a fever.

I let her go to sleep, and to give her peace, I tried to sleep in the chair downstairs with the kiddo bundled up on me. He got worse and worse through the night, and at about 0300 hrs, I noticed that his diaper smelt really strange (sorry to gross you out), with just pee. It was a sickly smell, not at all what anything from a human body should ever smell like. He seemed hot, so I went to take his temperature. He had risen to 103.5 F – VERY dangerous for an infant.

Fuck.

I immediately wake up my wife and rush him to the hospital. She stays behind at home with our daughter, since the ER is no place to keep a young kid and we didn’t know anyone that could watch her at that late of an hour.

Since it would have taken longer to wait on an ambulance out in the countryside, I sped to get him to the military hospital’s ER in about 20 mins. They immediately put him on fluids and call in the on-call pediatrician. They move him to the ICU, and after a few long hours, I get told that they believe he has a urinary tract and kidney infection, and while they had gotten his temperature down to a safer spot, we weren’t out of the woods yet.

While waiting, knowing that my regular work day was coming up, I tried calling everyone’s phone number I had, but nobody answered. At the gym probably. After leaving some voicemails, I gave up and decided to wait until people roll in at 0700 hrs. I kept trying to call the unit phone number, but no one answered until 0720. I get asked by one of the guys where I was, I let him know I’m at the hospital due to an emergency with my newborn, and he gets BS over to the phone.

​

BS: OP, where you at?

Me: I’m at the hospital. My son is in the ICU, had a fever of 104 and a serious infection. I’ve been up all night and haven’t slept.

BS: Well you should be at work. You missed PT, and you’re late.

Me: *pausing, because, WTF?* … I need to come into work? My son had to go to the ER, he’s in the ICU…

BS: I don’t want to hear it. You’ve already been late multiple times. [but not really, as I mention above] *angrily* Get your ass down here!

Me: … Uh, well I’m not in uniform. I will have to stop by my house. One parent is required to be here, so I need to see if one of my neighbors can give my wife a ride to the hospital, and our daughter has to be dropped off at school because children can’t be in the ICU.

BS: Just get here. *hangs up*

​

I was completely floored. What. The. Actual. Fuck.

At no point in my entire military career, before and since then, have I EVER heard of anyone being forced to come in to work when an immediate family member was in the hospital for an emergency. I was half confused, half outraged, and wholly beside myself.

My wife shows up, I take the car home after updating her and making plans to take care of our daughter while we rotate shifts at the hospital. I did a very quick SSS – shit, shower, shave – and drive over to the shop.

BS ignored me when I arrive, other than a sidelong disapproving look. I start my usual routine, but I am exhausted, worried sick, and pretty fucking angry all at once. Some of my coworkers heard what happen and are concerned, but BS the tyrant seems to be angry himself and no one wants to approach him.

​

Revenge, Part 1

A few hours went by, with me keeping in touch with my wife on the status of our son. I tried approaching BS a few times, but he was having none of it.

One of the other Master Sergeants in the squadron, part of a different unit, but whom I had worked with before, came by and noticed me probably looking distraught. We’ll call her Hero Sergeant, or HS. She pulls me aside to one of the quiet corners of the shop.

​

HS: OP, are you okay? You look terrible?! Is something wrong?

Me: [I tell her about my son being sick and in the ICU – I was barely able to hold my composure in at this point, I was so angry yet so worried and downtrodden about my son, and I’m fighting to keep it together through the exhaustion and lack of sleep.]

HS: WHAT?! Why the hell are you here?!

Me: I’m not sure. BS ordered me to come in when I tried to explain. He won’t talk to me.

HS: Fuck that. Hang tight.

HS then quickly walks off. Now, our unit is on the other side of the base from the main squadron: about 15 minutes later, just enough time to drive to the squadron and back, HS appears – along with our unit Captain, and the squadron’s Major (XO to our Lt. Colonel CO).

The Major storms toward the unit office section, pauses and looks right at me, and says in an obviously angry but soft voice…

Major: OP, get out of here. Your place of duty is the hospital until your son is discharged. Don’t step foot in one of these buildings until then, I don’t care how long it takes. Take care of your family. Are we clear?

Me: *as I start to scramble* Yes, sir.

Major: *yelling* BS, GET YOUR ASS IN THIS OFFICE RIGHT NOW!

​

I proceed to quickly gather my shit together, all while seeing BS head toward that same office door and he gives me a glowering look on his way in.

As I leave, there is no possible way to doubt that everyone in the area, probably the whole building, could hear BS get absolutely reamed and raked over the coals by the Major as I departed. The Major was always a quiet and fair man, I had never seen him anywhere even approaching angry, so it was absolutely terrifying to behold.

I have to admit, it felt good to know that he was getting some of what he deserved.

My son did clear up eventually and was discharged from the hospital 5 days later, healthy and no harm done, thank God!

I know this first part’s “revenge” isn’t quite revenge, but it was sweet, sweet karma to see that asshole put in his place. Still, as good as it was, it made things worse between BS and I much, much worse.

​

Fallout

Well after all that, BS hated my guts. Obviously, it would be career suicide to openly retaliate against me, so he found little ways to do so at every opportunity. That wasn’t to say I didn’t have my faults, I certainly did, and I made mistakes no doubt, but what he did was particularly underhanded.

You see, it wasn’t until he PCS’ed to his new assignment that I learned what he had done. My new Sergeant (NS) was awesome, highly relatable, and knew BS from previous deployments together - he indicated on more than a few occasions that he wasn’t exactly fond of BS.

In the meantime, I had gone to training to become a Sergeant myself and graduated at the top of my class with honors. I then went on to another deployment to the “sandbox” and came back with some major kudos from leadership there, working my butt off every day wanting to prove I was more than what BS tried to paint me as. It was after my return to home station that I learned what BS had been up to - completely behind the scenes.

Remember how even the First Sergeant was buddy-buddy with BS? Well the FS had also PCS’ed while I was deployed. Our new FS went through everyone’s Personnel Information Files (PIFs) and discovered that I had a massive - and I mean massive - stack of Letters of Counseling (basically, you got a “talking to,” and the LOC is documentation proving it) and even a Letter of Admonishment (LOA), a more serious version just under a Reprimand.

I found out from NS that when he and his boss were talking with FS, he was wondering how the hell I hadn’t been kicked out of the service with such a track record. But then he also noted how suspicious it was that every single one of the LOCs and the LOA lacked my signature - something that is required by regulations, acknowledging your reception of it (though not admitting guilt).

I had never been shown these, nor had any idea they existed. The majority of them were very minor infractions, almost none of which I had committed in any fashion. Even more strange, NS caught onto details that there were four of them dated for the same time I was in training (at a different base / different country), and one during a short deployment I had gone on earlier. It didn’t add up, and all three sergeants found it rather confusing and shady.

Thankfully, my performance once I was out of the shadow of BS was more than enough to convince all three sergeants that I was not the dirtbag that BS was trying to paint me as. I don’t know the details, but I do know that his pseudo-forgeries (he could just claim they were “incomplete” and not meant to be filed) caught up to him and he caught some flak for it. He retired not long later, and I hope that it was a black mark on his record.

​

Revenge, Part Two

So this is where it gets interesting again. Fast forward about four more years. I had gotten out of the service by then, finishing my second enlistment, and I moved back to the States to take advantage of the GI Bill.

It’s also worth mentioning that I’m an IT guy, and I’ve always got at least a dozen boxes of parts, tools, and hard drives. It’s also what I was in college for at the time.

I’m going through a stack of old ATA hard drives to see what I could salvage for a lab projects (we basically needed a bunch of “victim” machines to test against, and a few of us had old ATA motherboards hanging around). I’m checking them before I scramble/wipe the drives to make sure they’re working fine, and to make sure I’m not deleting wanted files/archives.

I’m flipping through this drive’s old files, nothing much beyond typical Windows folders, until I hit a buried directory with a bunch of images in it. I can tell they’re of the X-rated kind from thumbnails - not surprising, I’m a guy, and who didn’t have a sizeable porn stash in their single days, right?

But then I realized… these weren’t porn shots. These were homemade. It definitely wasn’t anything I had ever done. But I recognized something almost immediately - a unique lower back “tramp stamp” on the woman in the photos (faces were never shown). A tattoo I remember clearly: one of the wives of a guy in my old unit was showing it off after she had gotten it.

And the guy she’s on top of? Far, far too pasty of a skin tone to be her husband. It was then that I realized that this was one of the drives I had salvaged from a broken old PC that BS had given me for parts, back when we were still on good terms.

BS had been cheating on his wife with one of his subordinate's wife. Looking at the background of the photos, it was obvious that this was in the home of BS, too - if you remember, we had all been there many times.

Time to extract some revenge. I would like to tell you that I did some cool scene out of Mr. Computer or some crap like that, but really, simple efficiency won out here.

I knew BS, Mrs. BS, and the other couple were all on Facebook (they’d often come up as recommended friends-of-friends). I created an account that vaguely sounded like someone we could all know, and had military work history to match the assignment, in order to protect my own privacy/identity. I sent a few messages each to Mrs. BS and the husband of the tattooed wife. Once I got responses asking, basically, “Who is this?” I just pasted a number of select photos from the private photo shoot.

Mrs. BS, obviously recognizing her husband’s body and their old home in Europe, kept saying “WHAT THE FUCK?” - I said I was just the messenger, and to do with the photos what she pleased.

The husband of the tattooed wife first thought my new identity was the man in the photos and started to threaten me, until I told him to pay special attention to the background. He realized who the man in the photos was, having also been in that house countless times, and thanked me for telling him the truth. While we weren’t close, I do feel really bad for him. :(

(I didn’t feel too bad for Mrs. BS because she turned into a snob when BS got mean.)

I heard through my buddies from the unit that both couples were divorced, roughly a year later. All the old crew knew exactly who had cheated with who. I also heard that the divorce of BS and Mrs. BS was particularly bad. Nobody knows who leaked the photos, though.

​

Closing

This is the first time I have admitted to what I did, just for the sake of revenge and getting back at the bastard who did so much to personally attack me, even in a time of need, and who very nearly ruined my military career. Part of the reason I decided to get out of the service was because of him - I never wanted one person to have that much control over my life again.

I hope you enjoyed my story, sorry it was so long, but there was just so much that happened. I could add even more crap that he did, too.

​

And to Bastar-Sergeant, if you ever read this someday, I’m sure you will have realized who I am. I only have one thing to say to you: Fuck you - you deserved it.

(source) story by (/u/Celesae)