Not labelled body muscles

A few years ago, I had the chance to learn about Venerable Minh Tue through the YouTube channel Nhan Ga Vlogs. The videos show the monk in a cave at Mount San (Nha Trang), near my home. In these videos, the Venerable does not preach or talk about himself. He only answers questions and shares his journey of practice honestly. What I am most interested in are his insights on practice and discipline. I realized that Venerable Minh Tue has read extensively and understands the Nikaya scriptures deeply, practicing according to the Buddha's teachings. This led me to conclude that he is a true monk.
Today, Venerable Minh Tue is known by many (I prefer not to use the word "famous" for a monastic) and has widespread influence, reaching beyond national borders. The story of Venerable Minh Tue has become hotter than ever, flooding social media with videos and images of him. This has sparked a variety of opinions, ranging from admiration and respect to criticism and contempt. Many paths of human experience!
Fortunately, those who think negatively about him are still a minority.
Venerable Minh Tue practices the ascetic path of Dhutanga. Some people look at his conduct and attire and criticize him as crazy, self-mortifying, lacking wisdom, and not following the Middle Way that the Buddha encouraged. However, these critics do not realize that Venerable Minh Tue is practicing according to the correct Dharma, following the teachings of the original scriptures. He has abandoned family life, living a pure and simple life, renouncing all attachments, and practicing minimalism and contentment. People confuse the ascetic practices of Dhutanga with the severe austerities the Buddha practiced during his six years of seeking enlightenment. Those severe practices involved extreme self-mortification, causing great physical pain (originating from Brahmanism). Thus, Dhutanga in a sense is a precursor to the Middle Way and still closely aligns with it.
Many argue that monastic life should prioritize wisdom over physical asceticism. However, they confuse worldly wisdom with Buddhist wisdom. Worldly wisdom is human cognitive ability, derived from genetics and education, whereas Buddhist wisdom is only revealed when a practitioner strictly adheres to precepts. Observance of precepts leads to concentration, and concentration leads to wisdom. Therefore, the Buddha said, "Where there is virtue, there is wisdom and vice versa."
The core of practicing Dhutanga is to end all defilements and impurities. This practice helps the practitioner guard the senses, not being influenced by circumstances, gradually eliminating greed, hatred, and delusion. That is why monastics eat only one meal a day (reducing greed for food), sleep sitting (reducing the desire for sleep, as lying down can lead to deep, excessive sleep), and wear three robes (actually one set, the minimum requirement, reducing attachment to clothing).
Some criticize why a Dhutanga practitioner does not live alone in the forest but wanders across the country. The answer is that finding forests in Vietnam today like in the Buddha's time is impossible. Venerable Minh Tue has also spent time in seclusion on Mount San. So why does he choose to walk across the country? He answers that it is to "train and maintain health." In a deeper understanding, he is practicing the true Dharma of the Tathagata. Walking helps him to be mindful of body, feelings, mind, and phenomena; living in hardship, experiencing suffering, and understanding the cause of suffering leads to the end of suffering, rather than hoping to escape suffering to find happiness.
On his journey, if he is tempted by material possessions, money, or beauty, it means that desire has arisen; if he feels troubled by the crowd, it means anger has arisen. Therefore, solitary retreat alone may not necessarily help control the mind when faced with worldly temptations.
Many people also question the social utility of his wanderings. If everyone did as he does, who would produce food? These questions are shortsighted and self-serving.
What have we done for society? Everyone contributes to society in varying degrees, and human values are not solely measured by material contributions but also by spiritual ones. Typically, what we do is visible and beneficial to ourselves and our families. In contrast, what Venerable Minh Tue has done for society is far more significant and evident:

• He has helped many people see the image of original Buddhism and the monastic life of the Buddha.
• He serves as a mirror reflecting the true nature of some "fraudulent monks," "transaction monks," and "advisory monks."
• He has awakened many who were lost in false doctrines, bringing them back to the light of the true Dharma.
• He has maintained faith in Buddhism for many and earned the admiration of followers of other religions.
• He has inspired many to reflect on themselves, reducing greed, hatred, and delusion in their lives. Some have even given up everything to follow his path.
• In a way, he has brought people closer and fostered social harmony.

If society could follow his example, it would be wonderful. Then, I believe, society would not only have food and clothing but also a more peaceful and happy life. However, few people can do what he does!
Some people question why he refers to himself as "con" (child) instead of "thầy" (teacher).
First, he has chosen the path of renunciation, no longer bound by monastic duties at a temple, and does not consider himself anyone's teacher to avoid influencing others and bureaucratic issues.
Second, the self-reference "thầy" among monks and laypeople today is merely a convention in communication. There is no binding requirement. In essence, it is a cultural practice in Vietnamese language, while in English, it is just "I-You," or in Chinese, "Wǒ 我 - Nǐ 你." Some high-ranking monks still refer to themselves as "tôi" (I) or their Dharma names when teaching. Venerable Minh Tue's use of "con" with everyone demonstrates his practice of humility, renouncing the ego, which is the spirit of selflessness.
Currently, wherever he goes, hundreds to thousands of people follow, including many YouTubers, TikTokers, and Facebookers. This has raised concerns about security and disruptions to his practice.
I believe we should not rush to blame or criticize those creating social media content. Let's see the positive side, for without them, how could the beautiful image of a true monk spread? In this era, spreading the Dharma and sharing good things are more effective with the support of media and social networks. How else would Vietnamese Buddhists know about the teachings of monks like Phap Hoa or Tinh Khong and other high-ranking monks?
Moreover, their gathering is also a test for Venerable Minh Tue to practice mind control. If he starts feeling important, central, or like a star due to attention and veneration, he immediately falls into ego clinging and arrogance. If he gets annoyed by the crowd, it means anger has arisen. These situations are ultimate tests on the path of precepts and mindfulness. Observing him, no matter how hard the walk, his face remains serene with a smile. Perhaps he has attained tranquility.
Some people express sympathy for him, tearfully seeing him bareheaded, barefoot, under the sun and rain. This emotional response is understandable but from a worldly perspective. Choosing the path of asceticism makes him feel internal joy, and these hardships help him approach enlightenment.
Some worry about him facing dangers from dark forces. Don't worry; choosing this path requires great courage. Didn't he say, "If I'm allowed to live, I'll continue to practice"? This shows fearlessness as he has thoroughly understood impermanence and selflessness. What we should care about is whether he has truly attained this mindset. If he has, Nirvana is not far away. Therefore, we should rejoice.
I predict that at some stage, after experiencing suffering and training body and mind, Venerable Minh Tue might retreat into seclusion to achieve enlightenment. Once precepts are fully observed, meditation is necessary to attain concentration.
Certainly, his influence has reduced the income of some fraudulent monks, who might even have to sell cars and land. Therefore, it is not surprising that efforts to defame and harm Venerable Minh Tue are intensifying. Initially, they fabricated stories of false monasticism with staged filming. They ridiculed his robe, calling it "plot selling land," or criticized his rice cooker as an unofficial alms bowl. But they fail to understand that he has reached a state of non-attachment, indifferent to shame or ridicule. Having chosen a renunciant life, living without family, sleeping in cemeteries, overcoming family ties is the greatest obstacle.
The meanest tactic they use is labeling him as an agent of foreign anti-government organizations, portraying him as a beggar monk to undermine Vietnamese Buddhism and the nation.
I must say, Vietnamese Buddhism is undermined by fraudulent monks, tolerated and supported. They exploit karma and reincarnation theories, distorting and frightening the ignorant with horrific afterlife scenarios. They continue exploiting donations as a way to resolve karmic debts, seeking blessings, and accumulating merit, the more money, the better, even encouraging devotees to donate entire houses to temples and live simply elsewhere. In short, just donate.
Therefore, the purification of fraudulent monks will be the revival of Vietnamese Buddhism.
Praising Venerable Minh Tue's practice does not mean devaluing other practices of true monks in the country. Each has different capacities and vows, so not everyone can be the same. Every individual is here to fulfill a unique mission.
If the standard of a monk is virtue, clearly, the one who practices surpasses the one who understands. Practicing Dhutanga is a great merit, rarely achieved. Therefore, praising and respecting virtue is right but not deifying or idolizing Venerable Minh Tuệ at this moment, as this would lead to wrong views and contradict the spirit of Buddhism.
To understand the significance of practicing Dhutanga, let me quote the Buddha's praise of Venerable Kasyapa's practice:
“Well done! Well done, Kasyapa! You have brought great benefit and saved innumerable beings, extending this to all the realms of gods and men. Why? Kasyapa, if this ascetic practice remains in the world, then my teachings will also remain long in the world. If my teachings remain in the world, then the path to the heavenly realm will increase, and the three evil paths will diminish. Likewise, the noble paths of Sotapanna, Sakadagami, Anagami, and the Three Vehicles will also remain in the world. Monks, you should practice as Kasyapa does.
Thus, monks, you should learn this.” (4)
Notes: (1) In the Samannaphala Sutta, Kinh Chung Đức (2) Also known as Prajna Wisdom (3) In the Kinh Chung Đức (4) In the Ekottara Agama, Volume I
Nha Trang, May 10, 2024 Nguyen Thanh Huy Email: [thanhhuy1979@gmail.com]()
Editor's Note: (*) Currently a lecturer in the Department of Linguistics at the University.

I'm still pretty new to PHP and, forgive me for my vague title to this post, I just don't exactly know how to describe what I'm doing here, or if it's even advisable. Basically, this is the "front" php page that serves as a starting point: the user enters some information, and hits the "Let's Go!" button.

      Please use this form to test if an INC can call itself. the "post" method keeps the information in the form private instead of showing up in the URL 
   option One  option Two  
    

After that, the user is shown a sort of "confirmation" of the information they entered, and they can make any last edits before they hit the "Final Selection!" button.

The finalized values that were just submitted are as follows..."; echo "The text entered was... " . $_POST["finalText"] . ""; if (isset($_POST["firstOptionConfirm"])) { echo "Option 1 was selected."; } else { echo "Option 1 was NOT selected."; } if (isset($_POST["secondOptionConfirm"])) { echo "Option 2 was selected."; } else { echo "Option 2 was NOT selected."; } # go back to the very beginning echo '
'; echo ''; echo '
'; } # first pass, after the Let's Go! button is pressed if (isset($_POST["initialSubmit"])) { # the initial submit was pressed echo "The initial submit works!"; $option1 = ""; $option2 = ""; # was the first option selected? if (isset($_POST["firstOption"])) { # option 1 was selected echo "Option 1 was selected!"; # change option 1 to be true $option1 = " checked"; } # was the second option selected? if (isset($_POST["secondOption"])) { # option 2 was selected echo "Option 2 was selected!"; # change option 2 to be true $option2 = " checked"; } # create the confirmation form echo '
'; echo 'Please confirm your selections...'; echo ''; echo ' please confirm option One'; echo ' please confirm option Two'; echo ''; echo ''; } 

This also shows the user what was finally submitted, and then they can click the "Ok thanks" button after viewing what was just submitted, and it brings them back to the "front" php page again.
Is it ok to do this sort of thing?

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Hello all. I wanted to share this story in the hopes you don’t make the same mistake I did.
I (27m) have always had issues expressing my love for people. I know I love people like my family and friends, I just can’t bring myself to tell them. It has been at least 12 years since I have told my mom that I loved her, even though I cannot imagine going through life without her. I told my dad that I loved him when he was going through a rough spot with my mom 6 years ago and we both broke down crying, which made me not want to do that again in a way. It took me 18 months to tell my girlfriend that I loved her and it was an intense moment for me. I don’t know why I have so much trouble telling people they matter to me, but that may be something to explore in therapy.
3 years ago, I lost my uncle to pancreatic cancer. I found out in October the previous year and he was dead by April - in 6 months, he went from functional to in horrible pain and dying. His wife was useless as they had not been getting along so it was my parents and me that cared for him. I took him to countless doctor appointments, chemotherapy and radiation treatments, and emergency trips to the ER. I was happy to do it. He and I had a close bond as I was growing up. He would take me to McDonalds on weekends and include me in his family’s celebrations (he was my uncle by marriage). We weren’t related by blood but he treated me as such and I will forever be grateful.
In the week before his death, I had to take a work trip out of town. I was working in a position that was essential to coordinating different in-person operations of a company during the pandemic so I could not opt out. The night I left, I stopped by his house. His wife was ignoring him and he was alone in the guest room watching YouTube videos. It was clear he was hoping to talk to someone. I got a status report from him and just chatted for a bit. During the entire conversation, each muscle in my body and thought in my hear was screaming at me to tell him how much I loved him and appreciated his time as I grew up. I desperately wanted to tell him how much he meant to me and the profound impact he had on my life. Looking at him, I knew he was going to die very soon. I started to tell him but kept stopping and mentioning something else. I couldn’t do it. My last words to him were “See you next time.” and I patted him on the shoulder.
He died one week later. That was my last interaction with him.
When I got the news he died, I was devastated. I was driving back to town and hoped to meet him, but he died about 4 hours before I got there. It was the toughest drive I have ever had to make. The time between his death and the funeral was a daze. We were incredibly lucky to get a funeral booked during that time due to the COVID deaths and his entire family all came up to me and told me how much he appreciated and respected me. All I could do was thank them.
In the weeks and months after the funeral, I kept thinking about how much of a coward I was. I didn’t give a dying man I loved the message because I was too afraid to do it? I couldn’t believe that. To this day, I still think this is the worst thing I have ever done (or not done) because he needed it and I just couldn’t share how I felt. I wonder to what extent I am capable of incredible cruelty for not sharing, and whether I could tell my mom or dad I loved them on their deathbed. I wonder if it makes me a bad person, or perhaps an incredibly broken one?
I urge you to avoid my mistake. You only live once and it’s really difficult to regret telling someone how much they mean to you, but INCREDIBLY easy to regret not telling them. I just started a new job with therapy benefits so I will be taking advantage of that, but I sincerely hope you tell someone how much you love them. Don’t live with the incredible guilt I live with.
Thank you for listening.

Hi! I've asked themoddingofisaac twice and got no responses, so I'm going to cross post here. I'm trying to make a visual mod for the first time ever where I resprite Tainted Jacob and Dark Esau. Thing is, for whatever reason, Dark Esau's sprite sheet does not include a body?
out of desperation, I've edited the only 2 sheets I could find that looked like his body- spirit of the night and dark vessel but neither of them did anything when i pasted it into the respective modded gfx folders.. spirit of the night was labeled a costume so I wasnt shocked there, but I'm not entirely sure what dark vessel is as it wasnt labeled a costume and I've yet to unlock it I suppose, or never ran into it.
I've searched around in the folders forever now and I can't find any other sprite sheets like those ones? So I'm just at a loss of what to do here. Again, I'm very new to this sort of thing and I don't have dead God so navigating the folders is a bit weird at times, but editing the body alone would be such an easy task if I could just figure out what the proper sheet is, and it's frustrating that it it's seemingly one of the only ones not connected to the actual character's direct sheet.
Like, both the lost and tainted jacob have the ghost body on their sheets? idk

Hello all. Trying to figure this one out before I make an ass of myself at the drs so I’d like to check if it’s a bendy thing or just a human thing. I’ll be as specific and succinct as possible.
It’s happened to me my whole life.
WHAT: My muscles get like wringing, ok this is aside from the deep ache and PEM stuff. This is like a twisting deep pain like deep internal muscle shivering like tremors (or dramatic trembling but strong trembling like head to toe trembling.) I am NOT epileptic, and this is NOT hypoglycemia. Muscles become trembley shakey wringing like I’m trying to desperately warm myself up. They will jerk and bounce slightly as well.
My jaw will also tremble like shivering, and my speech gets like drawled or slow like if I ate too much ice cream and my tongue goes dumb- I have to speak carefully to not sound like there’s an issue with me or like I’ve been drinking. I have to focus to control my tongue and mouth to form the words correctly. My mind is clear and no confusion, just all body stuff.
I considered this might “just be what happens if I get cold”, but this can also like I said happen just from emotional overwhelm like nervousness or excitability.
WHEN: Happens due to three different causes that I can remember:
•if I’m emotional, like nervous or something overwhelming happens or even like at a haunted house or even something positive like swooning at a crush I recall as a teen for example. So like excitability.
•From fatigue or over exertion. It recently happened towards the end of a three hour gardening class. I had seating, it was low level stress, and minimal physical stress. It was chilly but I was bundled up. In this case it was the fatigue or stamina involved that pushed me to that state.
• Actually being cold from the weather.
Recovery involves clenching my teeth and holding myself really tightly like a ball to like counteract the overall spasticity. My speaking issues will decrease from the mouth dumbness almost drunk sounding back to normal and I can just kind of shake it off.
I am fourty six now, and this has happened ever since I can recall- maybe since early teens or even like seven?
It’s now after many years of diagnosis I’m wondering A)what this is that I’m describing and B) if it’s an EDS thing so I can just deal w it like everything else or if it might be something else like to look into. All my labs and stuff are normal in the abnormal ways it can go like occasional inflammation ana kinda stuff, my rheumy has no specific concerns at this time.
Thank you so much if you can help me try to understand what’s happening before I act a fool at the Drs explaining all this lol

‘The locked positions of muscles depend on the interaction between neurons. For example, many cortical motor neurons are inhibitory in nature, and when they cease to function, we get spasmodic paralysis in the associated muscle regions.’
This happens continually to my brain since a near drowning at 18 month. HBOT tech (degree in Underwater Health!) says I have inflammation in the brain.
I did HBOT for 21 sessions. Physiologically amazing. Then my brain or body reverted back amidst the 21st session and im back to constant pulsation and pain.
I also get cyclical ‘suicide spells’ where I think my body is dying, so theres a wretched feeling, like my brain is twisting and turning, and with nausea. Could brain damage be addressed with diabetes or other off-label pills?
Other therapies have had some success (TMS, Scrambler machine, Frequency Specific Microcurrent) but my body returns to it’s abnormal state.
Anything i can do about this?
Im doing EMDR as a possibility next. Thinking my damaged brain could be on repeat.

Hi everyone, 23 NB here. I've identified with the aroace label for around three years at this point. I first identified with the label because growing up, I experienced basically zero sexual/romantic attraction (I do believe I had a libido though), no crushes, no desire to be in a relationship, etc.
I'd say over the past few years, I've worked out but at an intensity to where I didn't notice many physical/mental/emotional changes in my body. However, recently I decided to pursue weightlifting as a form of gender affirmation... and now I think I feel quite a bit more sexual attraction? I know for sure it's not just an increased libido, because it's directed at people. I went through a similar phase a couple years ago when I exercised vigorously for a few months to lose weight and felt similar changes but to a lesser degree. I'm guessing it's because of the increased testosterone circulation in my body... (I should also note that I'm intersex, if that changes anything lol)
I still don't think I feel sexual attraction all the time, but it's definitely enough to where I'm basically questioning my sexuality all over again (i.e. maybe I'm angled aroace instead, or maybe I'm just not aroace at all). I guess, has anyone ever experienced these kinds of fluctuations? Is it possible that what I'm feeling is normal for allosexual people?

I’m a male 20 years old and have just started my first cycle of anything with ostarine. I’m 2 weeks in and have been taking 10mg daily. I currently weigh 69kg quiet lean probably between 10-15% body fat and currently haven’t experienced major side effects however I have had abit of insomnia and i feel like it makes me wayyy hotter especially when working out. Looking to run this for 5 weeks, do u guys think I should have pct once I come off if I want to maintain gains and if so what do u recommend? And btw I’m not looking to put on massive amounts of muscle with this and become an animal I’m just looking for a slight boost in my training.

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Synopsis:
Juliette Contzen is a lazy, good-for-nothing princess. Overshadowed by her siblings, she's left with little to do but nap, read … and occasionally cut the falling raindrops with her sword. Spotted one day by an astonished adventurer, he insists on grading Juliette's swordsmanship, then promptly has a mental breakdown at the result.
Soon after, Juliette is given the news that her kingdom is on the brink of bankruptcy. At threat of being married off, the lazy princess vows to do whatever it takes to maintain her current lifestyle, and taking matters into her own hands, escapes in the middle of the night in order to restore her kingdom's finances.
Tags: Comedy, Adventure, Action, Fantasy, Copious Ohohohohos.
Chapter 241: Until Now
The doors to the Hartzwiese Adventurer’s Guild opened.
Before, the sound of raucous laughter could be heard flooding the street outside, filling the quiet of a spring night with all the debauchery the local drunkards had to offer.
Despite the halls of adventurers not being formal drinking establishments, those within were ready to compete in boisterousness with all the taverns, inns and pubs of the town combined. And also win. Handily.
And yet–
The moment the doors parted and I stepped within, a hush as quiet as any grave fell over its inhabitants.
A woman balancing with her derrière upon the head of another became still, the alcohol in her cup the only movement as it dribbled onto a stunned face below her.
A man slurping from the communal cauldron stared wordlessly, the stew pouring in, and then out of his mouth as the muscles of his throat forgot the means to swallow.
A bartender asleep upon a row of kegs quietly rose, the sudden din of silence waking him where the sound of debauchery and those drinking from the taps beside him had failed.
Here, there, and everywhere, eyes widened as the sudden silence was filled with the sounds of my footsteps as I strolled past, my loyal handmaiden and my brother’s attendant in my wake.
And also–
Mreow.
Mrewowow.
Meww.
Cats.
Tabby cats.
Calico cats.
Ragdoll cats.
Cats with twirly whiskers. Cats with puffy faces. Cats with slightly rounded ears.
Behind me, skipping around my legs while taking turns to sit upon my shoulders and very occasionally my head, were a legion of cats of various shapes, sizes and colours.
But no matter the springiness of their whiskers, the shine of their coat or the liveliness of their tails, one thing to bring them all together was the anarchy they caused.
This was no neat line of ducklings following after their mother.
This was a barbarian horde.
With no sense of organisation other than a shared drive to claim everything as their own, they immediately skipped amidst the stunned adventurers, scavenging for all the copious scraps while still turning their noses away from the alcohol forming sticky traps upon the floor.
Saying nothing, I allowed their demanding cries to fill up the hall as I swept forwards, pausing before a wall plastered from end to end with faded notices and requests long gone unanswered.
One by one, I systemically tore every request featuring a crudely drawn image of a cat, gathering into my arms a pile of parchment large enough to reach my chin.
Then, I made my way to the wooden desk.
A receptionist waited with a smile at the ready.
“Greetings! Welcome to the Hartzwiese branch of the Adventurer’s Guild. I see you’ve removed several notices from the–”
Poomph.
Silenced but unperturbed, this latest clone watched as I dropped the stack of requests onto her desk, before promptly topping off the stack with a copper ring.
“Do what must be done,” I said, my voice defiant. “I am ready.”
The receptionist answered me with a smile more permanent than the wall the notices were torn from.
A moment later–
“[Identify].”
A green hue appeared in her clasped palms as she assessed the ring.
“Juliette. B-rank. Your registered branch is Reitzlake.”
The sound of several cups clattered against the floor.
“Welcome again to Hartzwiese. I see from your commission history that you have an extraordinary amount of completions for recovering lost cats. May I assume the significant number of cats now roaming the branch hall relate to the notices removed from the wall?”
I pursed my quivering lips.
“Maybe.”
“Wonderful. And how many cats is it that you’ve rescued?”
“... Lots.”
“I see. Please give me a moment while I confirm the requirements of our commissions.”
The receptionist swiftly retrieved a stack of parchment from a drawer.
As she flicked through, her eyes simultaneously went to every cat roaming, napping and clawing in the hall. A skill not even monstrous overseers from the abyss with their dozens of eyestalks could match. But that’s only to be expected.
Wherever these receptionists were found, it was from a level deeper than any monster dared roam.
Eventually, she gave a nod.
“Thank you for waiting. There appears to be an excess of cats in relation to the number of commissions we have available. We’ll endeavour to ensure that every cat is rehomed at the earliest opportunity through our partner agencies and charities. But unfortunately, I can only provide official acknowledgement for cats rescued through a formal commission.”
I sucked in a deep breath, hoping that patience was one of the things I accidentally inhaled.
“Fine. And how many commissions does that end up being, then? … 10? 15?”
The receptionist flicked through her bundle of parchments once more.
“94.”
“... Excuse me?”
“I can confirm the successful completion of 94 simultaneous F-ranked commissions. Congratulations. This is a new record, breaking what appears to be one earlier set by yourself. A remarkable achievement befitting a B-rank member of the guild.”
The receptionist’s professional smile never wavered.
I thought that would be the worst of it.
But then–
She slowly brought her hands together … and started applauding.
It was the leak which broke the dam.
At once, she was joined by all who were present to witness this crowning moment of regret.
I turned around in time to see a riot in motion.
“W-Wooooooooooo!!!!”
“In … Incredible …”
“A new record … I … I heard it was broken in Trierport … to think I’d witness it broken again!”
“A B-rank adventurer … ?! Where … Where did she come from … ?!”
There was no polite, respectful applause here.
It was the wild cheering of a crowd at a tournament. The whooping cries of theatregoers calling for an encore. The acclaim of my father as he elbowed others to delight in the poetry I’d written when I was 6 and thus now regularly attempted to burn.
Everywhere I turned, I saw and heard the acclaim mixed with shouts of horror as mugs of alcohol were spilled on purpose and by accident. The layabouts stomped on the floor, doing their best to murder decorum under the strain of unbridled emotion.
Only a few falling teardrops formed any hint of more dignified revelry, the glimmer of admiration running down cheeks as sniffles were hidden amidst the raucous cheering.
And then I bore witness to the most morbid sight.
Like a tidal wave of soiled clothes and snotty faces, they suddenly came as one, hands reaching out for me with dripping mugs still in their grips. Horror struck at my soul. And unlike a farmer who’d scarpered into the night, I had nobody who could heal a wound caused by hooligans accepting me as their own.
“A-Amazing!! Take my drink! Take anyone’s drink!!”
“So many cats rescued … even my allergies can’t believe it!”
“My gods, it’s a legend! An adventurer among adventurers!”
This.
This right here.
This was the lowest point of my life … were I not an unparalleled genius.
“Oho … ohoho …”
At once, the wave halted.
Faces which were lit up in unabashed delight turned to looks of mild confusion against the tinkling music of my laughter.
They needed to cycle through the expressions until they reached horror and shame.
“Ohhohohohohohoho!!”
… For I was no drunkard seeking to join their ranks!
No … I was Juliette Contzen, 3rd Princess to the Kingdom of Tirea!
And that meant every action I took, every word I spoke, and every cat I saved was for a reason beyond the hopes and dreams these hoodlums had of wanton debauchery and rusting swords!
Indeed!
A lesser princess than I may slink away into the night, cowed by the utter shame, humiliation and disgrace of completing so many F-ranked requests that I somehow broke a record I’d only just set!
But I was made of greater things!
Of schemes and subterfuges so deep that it would take too long to explain! The plots I weaved were a silken web more intricate than any cogs which made up Coppelia as she doubled up, desperately trying to stop herself from succumbing to more pain from laughter!
And that meant with every cat request now denied to these louts … they would finally do some work!
“Ohoho … ohohohohoho!! Behold and be afraid! Witness before you the coming of a new dawn, here to lift you from your days of boundless reverie! Unfurl the shutters and gaze upon a radiance so pure it brands your dallying minds! The scorching sun has come to test the snail’s back, and all that your bleary eyes see is a great salt lake to devour you whole! Shrivel as you cling upon the sweat which drips upon your brow, for that is the proof you’re yet alive!”
A sudden silence met my proclamation of their coming ordeal.
And then–
“Wooooooooooooooooooooooo!”
“I don’t understand! But what a speech!”
“If she can do it, so can we!”
I raised a hand to my lips, barely covering my smile.
“Ohhhohohohohohohoho … !”
Here it was!
Operation: Gainful Employment!
An entirely new strategy, as bold as it was uncharted!
By removing what was surely the vast majority of missing cat quests available to the adventurers of this town, they would have no choice, utterly none whatsoever, but to engage in actual work! The type of work adventurers openly advertised themselves as doing!
Monster subjugation! Crime prevention! Fetching artifacts from hidden dungeons and then succumbing to their wounds at the entrance while the Royal Treasury pocketed the treasure!
Yes, this was clearly a highly experimental tactic.
But what was I, if not a bastion of creativity?
At the very least, I utterly refused to accept the status quo! An organisation dedicated exclusively to rescuing lost cats or elbowing into my kingdom’s sovereign affairs was no good to me!
Thus … I could not cower like some towngirl nauseous from the smell of their revelry.
Instead, I would squeeze the Adventurer’s Guild dry until the day I replaced them with an army of trained poodles. Until that joyous day, I could never tear my eyes away when they waited to be robbed.
To do so was more than a dereliction of duty …
Why, I’d be an accomplice to their drunken escapades!
My vow remained unchanged. For my goal, I would brave any indignity. The ring I was hoping the receptionist would forget to return was proof of that.
And thus–
I stood tall as a summer reed, proud in the knowledge that I had no need to feel even an inkling of embarrassment over completing 94 simultaneous F-ranked commissions! …
“Pfffffffffffffffffffffffffffffft.”
“S-Stop at once! You are not to laugh!”
“Pffffttt~”
“C-Coppelia!!”
Clearly not seeing the angel of self-sacrifice who I was, Coppelia held one hand tightly around her mouth. Even so, she failed to stop either the sound of her amusement or the tears falling from her eyes.
My only salvation was that it came at significant cost to her. Even now, she careened between laughter and painful regret.
I decided to offer both her and myself mercy.
Turning to the receptionist, I found a modest pouch already waiting upon the wooden desk. As well as a copper ring waiting beside it.
“Thank you for your service to the Adventurer’s Guild,” said the receptionist, her professional smile undaunted by the commotion. “Your total remuneration is 102 gold crowns, 7 silver crowns and 9 copper crowns. I’ve taken the liberty to compile all your separate payments together.”
I took the pouch and ignored the ring.
The receptionist pushed the ring forwards.
A long moment later, I collected it, uncertain what a receptionist would do if I tossed it into the communal cauldron, but knowing it would somehow still end up on my finger regardless.
With my head held high, I bravely ignored the chorus of voices unknowingly cheering for their own hardship as I swept past. Renewed tears and applause filled the hall. A few cats attempted to follow me. I stopped to shoo them away.
And then I was outside, the door closing behind me.
“... Goodness, that was quite the sight,” said Renise with a bemused smile. “It reminded me somewhat of the inns of Reitzlake’s docks. I wonder if all the halls of adventurers are like that, or merely those which you frequent?”
“Please don’t insinuate I’m responsible for the debauchery which occurs wherever the Adventurer’s Guild is concerned. That’s something I can claim no credit for.”
“You say that … but to me, it seems that you caused quite a stir. That really is a remarkable number of cats you rescued, after all. Even I can tell that 94 simultaneous F-ranked commissions–”
“Miss Renise.”
The maid’s smile wavered against whatever fatigued expression I was making.
A moment later, it fell away entirely as she switched to her role as my brother’s attendant and the leader of whatever scoundrels he’d charged her with herding.
“... Yes, I suppose there’s time for idle conversation later. There’s a guardhouse nearby. We should report on all that’s happened tonight.”
I gave a nod of agreement.
Hopefully, the baroness hadn’t woken from her stupor yet. But if she had, I was certain the single portrait of myself I’d returned to the wall of her gallery to smile down at her gagged and bound state would calm her nerves.
Renise hummed towards the direction of Hartzwiese’s centre, before returning her attention to me.
“If you wish to keep your identity incognito, I can see guards sent to where they’re needed using my own authority, and arrange for the appropriate seizure of the goods and crowns we’ve discovered.”
I beamed at once.
My, so prudent! It’s little wonder she was chosen by Roland!
“A judicious offer. And one I’ll accept gladly, providing the burden isn’t too severe.”
“This is merely an administrative task, and little burden compared to what both yourself and Miss Coppelia regularly perform. In any event, it is only efficient. I expect I’ll be spending a significant amount of time at the baroness’s farmstead. It is quite extensive. If possible, I would like to make use of it for Rose House. I imagine having such a facility close to the Granholtz border would have its uses.”
I nodded, already forgetting the barn’s existence.
“I encourage you to use your discretion as required. My brother has put his trust in you, and so I both expect and know that you shall not disappoint in furthering the kingdom’s prosperity.”
The young woman smiled. One filled with appreciation, but also lacking ambition.
Good.
An excellent combination as far as retainers were concerned.
“Thank you. Although I worry you place too much trust in my abilities. In truth, those like Baroness Arisa would have made for a greater asset to the kingdom. Her resourcefulness must be acknowledged.”
“It is not resourcefulness my kingdom requires. It is loyalty. And hers is a pit so empty it drains others.”
“That’s true. But at least we were able to acquire some useful things from her nonetheless.”
Renise pulled out a tiny vial from the belt around her thigh.
A golden liquid was stored within, glimmering with an unnatural light.
“These were in her chamber,” she said, her eyes lacking emotion as she surveyed the bright liquid. “When we met, she actually attempted to purchase my loyalty with this.”
“A suspect vial. How quaint. And what miracle did she promise?”
“One that would wake my parents from their curse of eternal slumber.”
“... And is it?”
“I don’t believe so, no. This is one of many identical vials I found in her chamber’s desk drawer. All prominently labelled with instructions to only drink as required to stave off the effects of bloating.”
Renise returned the vial to her belt with a slightly embarrassed smile.
“It’s still useful,” she admitted. “But just not for what I require.”
I gave a simple nod as my reply.
Nothing else needed to be said.
She hoped to see her parents wake from their prison of dormancy. An understandable wish. And one I wasn’t required to supplement with the comment that no pair named the Smuggler King and the Smuggler Queen were likely to receive as light a sentence as their daughter.
I could not speak on behalf of Roland. Although I imagined that as a kind man, he would prefer not to pass judgements which were total. But as the Crown Prince, he did not have the luxury of kindness.
It would take much to change their fate.
But perhaps that’s why Renise was here, still proving true, and not accepting stomach ailment potions from a baroness.
A moment of silence followed.
Renise gave a short sigh. And that was that.
She set her eyes on the task ahead–at least until whatever words she’d parted her mouth to say were interrupted by Coppelia’s humming instead.
“Sooooooooooooooo … you just want to wake up two people eternally sleeping, right?”
A small smile met her optimistic voice.
“If a cure were readily available, I’m certain I would have found it by now. I believe one might be possible, but it would take skill and ingredients beyond any apothecary I know of.”
“Well, sure, you could go that way. But what about going straight to the source instead?”
“The source?”
“Sure. They’re asleep, right? So just ask the one in charge of where they are now.”
“I’m … not quite sure I follow?”
Coppelia clapped her hands together and beamed.
“The Spring Court is the realm of dreams. Chances are, they must have shown their faces around a few times by now. If you ask the Spring Queen nicely, she might do you a favour.”
“The Spring Queen? … The fae?”
“Mmh~ luckily, we have someone with connections here!”
Renise was startled out of her reply.
It was nothing compared to me. The one being pointed at.
“Coppelia!” I said, truly aghast at the suggestion. “The fae are not to be taken lightly. Why, I still have nightmares about my conversation with the Winter Queen! I learned a side to royalty that day which I shall never forget … and I’m quite poorer for it!”
“You met … the Winter Queen?” asked Renise, her eyes suddenly wide.
“Unfortunately, yes, but I had zero intention of meeting her, and I’ve just as little intention of meeting any other fae as well. Including the Spring Queen.”
I waved away the coming query to declare what was just as important as my lack of enthusiasm.
“Besides, I’ve not the foggiest idea how I would even hope to use these supposed connections I have.”
“Oh, that’s the easy bit,” said Coppelia, her casual disregard for what counted as ‘easy’ more terrifying than any lout I’d met today. “The hard part is getting them to do what you want. But meeting them? The fae are creatures of stories. If the time is right, they’ll speak to you–one way or another.”
“Then they must book an appointment. One which I can formally reject.”
“I mean, I don’t think you have much choice. You didn’t last time, right?”
“The last time, I was sat beside the Winter Queen’s crown. I see no fae artifacts to hook me away. And that means utterly no scenario in which I could be abducted without my express–”
I suddenly stopped, clasping my hands around my mouth.
A moment later, I raised my arms in a martial art I’d just invented, turning repeatedly on the spot.
Renise blinked at me.
“Excuse me, but what are–”
“Shhshhshh!!”
I paused, gazing intently around at the quiet, dark streets of Hartzwiese, all the while ignoring Coppelia’s giggling at my near miss.
That … That was close!
“O-Oho … oho … I almost invited something terrible. Truly, it’s perhaps best not to needlessly voice things which Fae Queens and their deviant brand of magic could use …”
Coppelia nodded at me, as proud as she was clearly disappointed.
“You’re lucky. If the Spring Queen had a sense of humour, she’d have snagged you right there and then.”
“No. If the Spring Queen had a sense of humour, she’d wait until–”
Click.
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Nearly all the pants, even womans ones that i used to wear, all cling to my butt and look stupid. I don't have a thicc body either, i'm just a lil fat here and there, but mostly muscle with fat in the mix, and i don't have a bubble butt either.
I feel like shit when i wear these pants that fit everywhere else except my butt, it's not baggy fabric there, and i feel like i have a big ass or what ever :(. Idk what to do about it, cause if i get more beefy i'll just have more ass. Do you think id look stupid or would it be the same even if i was cis?

Hello all. I am an AFAB Trans Man, I'm 20, 5'10, and around 220 pounds. (automod said I needed to add that stuff, sorry if it seems unnecessary) I've been dealing with feeling nauseated almost every day when I wake up, I've been having a really hard time when it comes to eating, and I just feel way weaker than I did a few years ago. My stomach always feels tight, like if I make one wrong move or eat one wrong thing I'm going to throw up.
I do have acid reflux, and I used to take proton pump inhibitors for them. I don't smoke or drink, but I occasionally use delta-8 cannabis to deal with chronic muscle pain in my legs. I'm also on antidepressants and the birth control implant. I'm not currently on HRT, though I was for about two months.
My older sibling believes that maybe my previous living situation has something to do with the way I've been feeling.
From 2020 up till March this year, I was living in a hoarder house. I didn't have much of a choice, as I wasn't able to find a job to save my life, and I didn't find a housing situation until recently. The house was filled to the absolute brim with clutter. The bathroom was practically a biohazard, as my stepdad had a bunch of fecal accidents and would clean himself off in the shower, and it was PULLING TEETH getting him to clean up after himself! (I'm lucky I moved out after my mom died, as often times I would have to call her and say "Hey, can you tell Dad to stop being an asshole and clean up his own shit?" and that lifeline is now ashes in a box) The kitchen was the worst, filled with food we could barely store, and old gross pizza boxes (my stepdad would use them as flat surfaces to stack even MORE clutter), and a shit ton of moldy food from dishes my Stepdad would put off washing for weeks. We also had a dog that wasn't housebroken. He didn't use pee pads, he wasn't allowed outside unless I was walking him, so he literally peed everywhere. In a CARPETED HOUSE.
I don't like talking about this much because it's very embarassing, even though I know there wasn't much I could do about it (got verbally abused and screamed at every time I tried to clean up). It's especially embarassing considering how hard we tried to train the dog, but I was trying to find a job and finish high school, and my older sister was working her ass off trying to leave the same awful situation. Our mom knew we couldn't manage a dog, but she insisted on getting one anyway.
My older sibling and I think that living in a house that gross has definitely done something to my body. Could this be true? If so, what the hell is going on with me?

Chapter 3: The Nightmare Made Flesh
The full moon cast an eerie glow over the quiet streets of Willowbrook as Sheriff Ethan Blackwood patrolled the town, his eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of the creature that had been terrorizing the community. The past few days had been a waking nightmare – the brutal attacks, the mounting fear, the desperate search for answers. And now, with the revelation of the glowing eyes and otherworldly growl that Deputy Sarah Harding had witnessed in the woods, Ethan couldn't shake the feeling that they were dealing with something far beyond their understanding.
As he turned onto a deserted side street, a sudden movement caught his eye. Ethan slammed on the brakes, his heart pounding as he peered into the darkness. There, illuminated in the harsh glare of his headlights, stood a figure that defied all reason and sanity.
It was humanoid in shape, but there was nothing human about the creature that loomed before him. Standing at nearly six and a half feet tall, it had a bipedal stance that was uncannily human, but its body was a grotesque parody of the human form. Its limbs were elongated and disproportionate, with a hunched, unnatural posture that spoke of a twisted, inhuman anatomy.
The creature's skin was a sickly grayish-brown, mottled with patches of dark, coarse hair that sprouted in uneven clumps across its body. Its face was a nightmarish fusion of human and bestial features, with sunken, feral eyes that glowed an eerie yellow in the darkness. Its nose was flattened and broad, with large, flaring nostrils that twitched and quivered as it caught Ethan's scent. And its mouth...its mouth was a jagged maw filled with misshapen teeth that protruded at odd angles, giving it a perpetual, horrifying snarl.
As Ethan watched in mute horror, the creature began to change before his eyes. Its body convulsed and twitched, bones snapping and reshaping beneath its skin. Flesh rippled and bulged as muscles grew and shifted, and the sickening sound of tearing skin filled the air as the beast's form stretched and contorted into something even more monstrous.
The creature's arms elongated into long, spindly limbs that ended in gnarled, clawed hands, almost human in appearance but tipped with wickedly sharp talons. Its legs grew more powerful, more canine, with digitigrade feet that looked capable of propelling it forward with terrifying speed and agility.
And through it all, the creature's eyes never left Ethan's, burning with a malevolent intelligence that spoke of a human mind trapped within a monstrous form.
Ethan sat frozen, his mind reeling with the sheer wrongness of the thing before him. This was no animal, no mere beast. It was an abomination, a perversion of nature itself.
Then suddenly the creature threw back its head and let out a howl that shook Ethan to his very core – a sound of pure, unleashed bloodlust and fury. Then, with a speed that defied belief, it lunged forward, its jaws snapping and its claws outstretched.
Ethan barely had time to react, throwing the car into reverse and slamming on the gas. The tires screeched as he careened backwards, desperate to put distance between himself and the nightmare made flesh. In the rearview mirror, he caught a glimpse of the creature bounding after him, its powerful legs eating up the ground with terrifying speed.
Ethan's hands shook as he fumbled for the radio, his voice cracking as he called for backup. He knew how it would sound, knew the disbelief and terror his words would inspire. But he had no choice. The people of Willowbrook were in mortal danger, and it was his sworn duty to protect them.
Even if it meant facing down a monster straight out of humanity's darkest nightmares.
As he waited for his deputies to arrive, Ethan's mind raced with questions. What was this creature? Where had it come from? And most importantly...how could they hope to stop it?
He didn't have the answers. But one thing was clear.
The hunt was on.
And this time, the prey was a twisted fusion of man and beast, a creature of fang and claw and insatiable hunger.
Ethan took a deep breath, his hand tightening on his gun. He didn't know what horrors the coming days would bring, what nightmares they would have to confront.
But he knew one thing.
He would not rest until the streets of Willowbrook were safe once more.
Until the creature lay dead at his feet, and the long night of terror was finally over.
No matter the cost, he would see this through to the bitter end.
For the sake of his town, his people.
And for the memory of all those lost to the beast's savage hunger.

TL:DR: 3 days past due date, been very stressed for the past month. Birth doula suggested my stress hormones may be the reason, blocking labour from starting. Looking for stories where by re having a day of relaxing potentially brought on your on labour?
—
I am 40+2 with my second baby. I also have a toddler and needless to say, life is busy. My first w as a week late and I had to be induced as my body did nothing on its own to go into labour. This time around, I’ve been 1 cm dilated with a soft but high cervix since 39 weeks. It seems like history is bound to repeat itself and I desperately want to avoid being induced (I developed high BP at 40+3 with my first and my induction took three days but I did ultimately deliver naturally and everyone was healthy.)
This pregnancy has been more stressful than my first. Just taking the last month as an example, baby was breech and I tried ALL the things to flip her. I spent almost a thousand dollars (and a lot of time and energy) on various massage, physiotherapy, chiro and acupuncture treatments (thank god for my husbands amazing work benefits I got it all back), and between 34-37 weeks I basically was entirely focused on flipping her. I am especially motivated for a vaginal birth because due to health issues, I am not allowed to get a spinal or epidural so if I need a c-section it will need to be done under general anesthesia and that would mean both me and my husband would miss my daughter being born which breaks my heart. So, for over a month I was stressing constantly about her position. Somewhere in there I started my maternity leave a bit early too because with my husband and I both working full time, I had done barely anything to prepare for having this baby around the house, so between everything, I was working my butt off at home to prep for baby. Basically the plan was for an ECV at 37 weeks exactly if nothing else worked (spoiler: nothing worked). Just before the ECV, my toddler brought home a nasty daycare virus which I caught and the ECV was postponed until 37+5 when I was feeling (temporarily) better. Fortunately baby flipped easily however in the process she must have landed in a bad spot for my pelvis, because as I was walking out of the hospital with my newly flipped baby, my left SI joint went “out” and I could hardly walk. Cue me needing to use a cane and limping around the next 3+ weeks (I can still just barely weight-bear on that side and I’m just generally in constant pain, sleeping in a bed is torture). Then I woke up the day after my ECV to find that my cold had turned into a bad sinus infection and bronchitis, but because I only swabbed positive for rhinovirus in L&D, no one would give me an antibiotic despite me having a history of sinus infections. I could barely breathe, wheezed constantly, could not lay flat without massive coughing fits (so was sleeping maybe 2-3 hours a night sitting up) and strained all my abdominal muscles. This went on for 5 days until finally my GP agreed to give me an antibiotic and puffer. It took a full week on that for my symptoms to completely resolve. Over those 5 days before I got the antibiotic I also made 4 more trips to L&D, one for high BP which came down on its own, one for thinking my water broke (turns out I just peed from coughing) and two for reduced fetal movement related to dehydration (they gave me fluids and baby’s HR came back down to normal). Overlying that has been the constant worry that baby will somehow flip back to being breech or transverse (fortunately she has stayed head down). The past two weeks I’ve primarily spent cleaning/nesting and going to various appointments to try and fix my pelvic pain to no avail. Then on my due date this past Thursday, my toddler comes home yet again with green runny nose and I am just terrified now of getting sick yet again.
SO. Needless to say, I have been under a lot of stress. I completely online birthing classes and decided to reach out to the instructor to ask for suggestions on how to get my labour going to hopefully avoid an induction. After hearing just a fraction of what I’ve been through, she suggested that. I will not be able to walk myself into labour (despite my hip pain I have remained active for the sake of keeping baby head down and getting labour going). She said that potentially it is a mental block preventing my labour from progressing, noting that stress hormones work against labour hormones. Honestly, it makes sense to me since I still feel stressed and exhausted, I keep thinking “ok baby don’t come tonight, just let me get one good nights sleep first”…only for me to sleep like shit yet again.
So I’m going to focus on trying to relax tomorrow (Sunday). I would love to read some stories from people who think that relaxing was the key to getting their labour going. I feel like I see all the stories about how walking or nesting induced labour but nothing about how just chilling might have been what was needed.

This is gonna be a long post. I don't have health insurance and can't drive yet so this is the next best thing to therapy for me at the moment. I'll get the help I need when it's available to me, I promise.
I (17 M) had a dramatic falling out with two of my best friends back in December after they started dating (TL;DR I was extremely jealous and had an unhealthy emotional dependency with one of them which led me to lash out) and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it.
I learned at some point that they planned to ghost me after graduation because dealing with my constant breakdowns was wearing them both down and trying to talk to me at that point was like walking on eggshells. Hearing that broke me, but I finally accepted the fact that I needed to let them both go because keeping that kind of relationship wasn't good for any of us. I was absolutely devastated, but after a while of not seeing them or interacting with them, I started to feel a lot better. I quit working at the same mall they both worked at and graduated high school, so I've had plenty of space and distance to focus on other things. But I still think about them and about what happened.
During that time when school was still happening, I felt genuine terror whenever I knew I'd see them or I caught a glimpse of either one of them or just beleived I was going to see them. This happened at the mall too. And even now, there's this resturaunt I overheard them saying they went to on a date and everytime I've went since, I felt the same dread thinking I might accidentally run into them. I went today and thought I saw one of them. I didn't freak out immediately but when I left, I started tearing up thinking about the whole thing again.
Also during that time when I couldn't avoid them completely, there were many days where I'd wake up and the first thing I'd think about was them and what happened. Many times during the day too, I'd have, what I'm assuming now, were flashbacks to specific events. I would get lost in thought thinking about memories related to that whole mess. It didn't help that I had multiple vivid nightmares about them and what happened. It got better over time when school was finally out because I wasn't constantly reminded of it, but I went to graduation a couple days ago (which I was already dreading because I knew they'd both be there), I ended up breaking down into tears after seeing them.
And I had a thought that after graduation was over, I'd go home and kill myself because there was no point in living if the only people I ever cared about were much happier without me in their lives. I wouldn't say I'm suicidal. I've thought about dying before because of other things in my life but it's never been something I actually want or ever plan to do. I'm a wimp. I can't even self-harm, even though I've tried many times over the years to build up a habit of cutting or burning myself. But the thought itself of being driven to suicide really scares me. It's like my mind is screaming at me to just fucking do it already. This isn't even the first time suicide has crossed mind when thinking about them. One time after school, I had a similar thought that in a couple years I'd be dead because I was nothing without them. Soon I'd lose all will to live and I'd be so miserable and alone I'd kill myself.
I always feel better after the feeling passes (usually this happens when I get distracted and quit thinking of them or they leave) and the idea of seriously killing myself always feels silly afterwards but those breif moments where the possibility of turning to suicide feels so real and the pain is immeasurable. I don't think about them that often anymore because I don't see them that often anymore and I probably won't ever see them again. Which is a good thing but it still hurts.
I feel like I can't fully heal or get over this because I don't even know what this is. I'm greiving, obviously, because they were very important people in my life, but I feel like everything else I felt and still feel is more than just greif. I feel bad labeling it as trauma because it sounds stupid to me to label petty high school drama as a traumatic experience and I don't want to put the blame on them for traumatizing me or whatever because I was in the wrong. I acted way out of line and they were right to want nothing to do with me at that point. But I get scared thinking that I might do the same things again with the few friends I still have. Or that I might do even worse things to future friends or future partners.
I realize that a lot of what I did and why I did it are because of underlying psychological issues I might have that've never been adressed before. My family has a history of anxiety, trauma, suicide ideation, and depression. Me personally, I can't handle rejection at all. I don't wanna sound like that guy that self-diagnoses himself with all these mental illnesses but I think I might suffer from RSD. The fear I feel at the slightest hint of rejection is so potent and primal, I feel like I lose control and I can't escape from the way my body feels. Which frustrates me because I know logically I shouldn't take things so personally. That's why this whole mess just makes me angry to think about. I hate myself for how I acted because I'd never do any of the stupid shit I did if I had the ability to step out of my body and act rationally instead of acting on instinct. I'm trying not to make this sound like I'm absolving myself of guilt by saying "I couldn't control myself" (maybe that's a manipulation tactic I subconsciously do, I don't know and it scares me to think I do such things without realizing it, I worry sometimes that I'm secretly a narcissist and people only like me because I've manipulated them into beleiving that I'm a good person that cares about them, which is also why this whole situation makes me so mad because I always try to scrutinize everything I say and do to make sure I'm not doing the thing I'm scared I'm doing and this whole thing is the result of me missing so many obvious red flags in myself that I was unfit to be around either of them at at all.)
I don't know. There's probably a lot wrong with me. That entire mess of how I think and feel doesn't always come up in my everyday life. I can function just fine most of the time but the few times I end up thinking about what happened in December and everything else in life revolving that giant mess, it almost feels disabling. I power through it whenever it happens and it's been happening less and less, but I'm still worried about the day where something bad will happen and this entire knot will unravel and I'll fall apart on the spot.
I just want answers. I want the words to explain what I feel or what this is or what's wrong with me so people understand what's happening with me and how to act accordingly. I want the ability to help myself so I don't do what I did with my friends and dump all of that emotional baggage onto them hoping they'd sort through my shit for me. I want to be able to catch myself before I do stupid things a second time. I want to be better.

I never really have done a “review” so to speak of a film, but after sitting through to ‘properly’ watch my favourite Saw for a first tonight I really have to praise every little bit about it. What Leigh and James et al did with such a tiny budget is nothing short of phenomenal.
A big criticism of the first film is about its pacing, with many calling it a bit more “boring” than the instalments to follow. However, I think Saw 1 is excellent at combining its horrific trap plot and the detective story into one with such an intimate set of characters you can invest in. The later films build a bigger and bigger gap between the trap plot and the ‘police’ segments of the film, with the gore being the main focus. But in Saw, they’re practically a part of the bathroom trap. It helps that Tapp and Sing are written as close to Gordon already, more distanced from the main police force, allowing the pursuit of Gordon and the hunt for Jigsaw to be far more personal and unique and less bland with characters who are actually associated with each other. Saw 1 feels like one long story that puts all its pieces together, rather than two separate plots that only join together come the ending. It’s thus very consistent and developed if you can involve yourself.
The film’s tiny budget also means that there is a cut back on how much gore they actually managed to get in there, and I feel this helps a lot. While other films like X have proven that high budget gore does not have to be the highlight of the film, along with the ‘soap opera’ sort of plot that runs through all the films, I think Saw’s mystery of the Jigsaw killer makes the investment in the film far greater and interesting than that of just watching it for repetitive violence. The story itself I found to have good pacing, with the flashbacks, though slightly repetitive at times (cough car park scene cough) and the editing being slightly questionable, feeling necessary and a healthy addition to the film’s developing plot if you can get yourself involved with it. Simply put, there’s no real “filler” in the film, with even the more laid back scenes still fitting the topic and thus keeping you both interested and on-edge, as you have zero idea what to believe on a first watch; it’s also nice to look back on how the different characters acted and thought once you do know the full lore behind the film.
The actors brought so much energy to the film, and were 100% a big part of its success and legacy. Though questionable at times, the bond between Lawrence and Adam which take up a bulk of the film’s 103 minute run time never manages to fall flat, with their actual journey and development being very powerful as we are stuck with them traversing through this escape room. Once we find more about both of them, we can only feel more emotion for the situations they’re in. Others, like Glover, do an amazing and underrated job at ensuring their key characters help develop the story and make it believable. Tapp is both a unique and a very human character, and his descent into madness and obsession is portrayed excellently as he stalks Gordon like a lunatic. Emerson as Zep is also key, with him playing the film’s big bad until the ending. The orderly definitely comes across as a psychopath, and the horror of the scenes with Diana and Addison really help add to the mystery and to the horror of the film and Jigsaw. Side note: I love the more classic horror scenes, like Zep in the closet and Adam’s apartment search - they’re super well done and give the film such a great variation on top of its torture + body horror.
Such a story for me, with there being more of an emphasis on Jigsaw’s motive, and why he targets people (as demonstrated with the film’s characters) and traps just being his symbolic method make the movie far more powerful. While it’s cool to see gore and effects from such a bold film, along with the thrill, I feel it’s so much more rewarding when it comes from a story you’ve followed and been a part of. After all, it is the flipping of what we know and the story finally being pieced together with the revelation of Jigsaw, on top of the filmmaking, that make the ending scene one of the best in movie history; it’s not the iconic shots alone that make the scene so great, it’s the build up and our minds being freaking blown that do as well - it sends a chill down your spine after such a rollercoaster of a movie, and it’s rewarding to discover it in such an epic way.
As messy as this analysis is, I really just wanted to get my love for this film out of my system. I love Saw for both the engaging pursuit of the mysterious Jigsaw killer and the escape room that develops throughout the film all falling into one intimate, entertaining and re-watchable classic. It’s easily my favourite horror and is one of my favourite films of all time, defying the “torture porn” label and showing just how unique and entertaining the Saw franchise can be at heart.

I just found this subreddit today after feeling almost completely alone for the last 5 years. And because I’ve found it and because reading about everyone else’s stories has fulfilled a need so deep I don’t even know how to begin to explain, I’d like to share mine.
I’m 28, married for almost 5 years, and we’ve never achieved penetrative sex. My husband and I have both been Christians our entire lives and we both decided to wait until marriage to have sex. Almost all the other guys I’d been with before him were not virgins, but they knew I was waiting until marriage and so we never did anything more than touching/intense make out sessions. My husband and I never even saw each other naked until our wedding night, when, of course, we tried having sex for the first time.
Now, I was always pretty sure something was wrong with me. I was never able to get a tampon in, I tried going to get a Pap smear so I could be put on birth control for my horrible period pains and they weren’t able to perform the pap because I was in so much pain. I remember telling the NP I was a virgin and I’ve never put anything up there before but it’s almost like she didn’t believe me because she proceeded to shove the terrible plastic speculum right into me in one swift motion and my entire body trembled in pain, I was a sobbing mess, and she just said “oh we can’t complete the exam because it looks like you’ve started your period.” More like you broke my hymen, thanks. Tried again a month later and had another failed attempt. After that I was completely traumatized. I remember crying in the stirrups to the NP asking her how was I ever going to be able to have sex if it was that painful and she just said “sex is completely different, when you’re aroused you’ll be fine.” Wrong. That was in 2017. I got married in 2019 and didn’t attempt another Pap smear until 2022.
I was always open with my husband even before we were married that I had these issues and that I was worried what it would mean for us when the time came, so on our wedding night neither of us were surprised that we couldn’t have sex. And honestly, I think a big part of the reason it’s been almost 5 whole years and we still haven’t achieved full PIV is because we have such a great sex life even without it. Because we couldn’t have penetrative sex we got creative, adventurous, we focus on each other because we’re basically taking turns. We both always achieve orgasm. But there’s just always that part of me saying I’m broken, I’m not enough, he’s gonna get tired of this, he needs more, and any other girl could give that to him and I can’t. (Let me be clear- these are MY feelings, ones I’ve told my husband about and he could not feel more differently. He’s always assured me he is more than happy with where we are and would never want anyone else) But alas, the guilt still eats me alive telling me I’m not a real woman, I’m not a good wife, I’ll never be enough, and he deserves better. I’ve officially gotten to the point where I’m determined to make this happen for both of us, and I’ve gotten serious about my dilator usage with a specific goal in mind.
I purchased vaginal dilators (I use SoulSource) on my own after researching pain during sex. At first I couldn’t even get the smallest one in without pain (about the size of a pinkie finger). I tried having my husband help me use them but realized I need to be able to control the angle and speed on insertion for now. It was not fun. I’d go months in between even trying to use them. I was so ashamed, felt like a complete failure, but at the same time our sex life was great so I didn’t even want to bother with them. The shame took over more as the years went by. We can’t go on like this forever, I want this for both of us.
A few really important things happened that truly changed everything. This isn’t something I talk about with just anyone, but we do have some really great friends and family that know everything. I was talking with a really good friend of mine (who’s always been a bit of a sex fanatic) about how I think I don’t like using the dilators because of a mental block - like, it hurts, it’s awkward, I don’t know where I should be when I do it etc. She said “your vagina is a muscle, you’re just stretching it out. You’ve got to think of it like a workout” and as simple as it sounds, that’s what I really needed to hear. It changed my whole mindset, I realized I needed to do it routinely, for set periods of time, and I don’t need to be embarrassed (now before you say “well duh” remember I bought these dilators on my own, I didn’t trust the healthcare professionals anymore, so I was just winging it). I taught myself my routine. I listened to my body about when I could size up. I realized on my own that deep breathing helped and that once the size didn’t hurt anymore I should move it around and in and out. Nobody told me that shit. I did it by myself, for myself and my husband, and nobody else knew about all of this until I FINALLY decided to go try another Pap smear and found the most amazing NP in the world.
I sat in her office, cried, and told her everything about my previous Pap smear, how I still haven’t been able to have sex with my husband, how I’ve been using the dilators and. she. LISTENED. She did my pap with a juvenile sized speculum that was stainless steel and heated in a warming drawer and told me any time I go anywhere for a pap to call the office and make sure they have that or find somewhere that does. I got through the pap with MINIMAL pain. Then she did an internal exam with her finger, figuring out the spots that were the most painful. I was diagnosed with Vaginismus/Vulvodynia that day. It was the first day I felt seen, heard and validated.
I’d been slowly progressing with my dilators, trying to keep routine and falling out of habit, only ever able to get to size 6 out of 8 for over a year and now my husband and I are traveling to Iceland for our 5th wedding anniversary in two weeks and my goal is to have PIV while on our trip. I use the dilators every other day, I’m on size 7 out of the 8 Soul Source dilators and my husband is a little bigger than 8, but I believe we’ll get there. I’ve never felt this much hope in my journey so far, I’m so incredibly proud of my body and how far it’s come. Say a lil prayer for us if you got this far. I don’t care if nobody reads this because really, this is for me. I’m done being ashamed and I wanted my story out there, because reading everyone else’s really helped me.

hello again, i’m 20 and had a full robotic laparoscopic hysterectomy (kept ovaries) about 7 weeks ago due to endometrial cancer, i have to say recovery for me personally was not bad whatsoever (for some extra info im on the heavy side about 290) the first couple weeks it didn’t really hurt it felt like a tore a muscle in my stomach, i had bowel movements the second i got home (went home same day about 2 hours after surgery) the worst part was honestly peeing after the catheter (it hurts but i promise nothing to be too nervous about) it went away i would say about the 6th time using the bathroom. i also stopped spotting the day of surgery. at my 3 week post op my pelvic exam was great. and for everyone worried about sleeping positions DO NOT WORRY your body will tell you if it doesn’t like it, by day 4 i personally was able to sleep on my side and then able to lay on my stomach by the second week. i heavily suggest a squishmallow it was my favorite thing. gas pains i didn’t really have because i learned my surgeon (i don’t believe it’s the same for every surgeon this is just my experience) my surgeon drains majority of the gas out, i also took gas x for two days afterwards just to be safe. overall it’s been a very good experience and i would never change the decision i made. i hope everyone who has had a surgery is doing well and i hope to everyone who is getting one that it goes wonderfully (if you have any questions please feel free to ask)

Had a small tear behind my trochlea, doctor did a MF in sept 2023. My quad shut down and took 2-3 months to get to straight leg raises after surgery. Lots of quad muscle atrophy (25% loss) and got patellar tendonapthy. New mri shows defect filled with fibro cartilage but functionally i am in a weird place where walking for miles is painfree, biking is painfree, squatting with body weight is slightly painful (2/10), isometric holds hurt (3/10) and running is not possible, knee feels unstable. Leg extension is painful (5/10) Should i keep rehabing or is it time to look at MACI? What does a successful MF look like? I am 45M, fit - 18% body fat

Royal Road here: https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/80877/nop-atalors-fate
Discord Tag: notafurrylad
It's been a while, huh?

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Memory transcription subject: Yivreen, Cyonian Survivor
Date [standardized human time]: February 22nd, 2134
The flash daymares hadn’t stopped. Four nights since they’d set in, and now those two fire and brimstone eyes were lingering, waiting to come out when I was asleep. I’d thought that first daymare had been a fluke. It’d felt real, getting chomped up like that, crushed. But... ah.
I’d had more. Once I was in the mouth of that Arxur who’d kicked down the tree. Then I was in the cages with Hens Jr and Sr, and Alma... And each time if there was time for it that swampheaded, red eyed, smokey Arxur would come on in. Try and guilt me like I’d done something wrong.
It was working.
“Yiv. Yiv! I think I got it!” I blinked, my stupor broken by Junior. The kid had been a good help with the computer system since we’d let him fiddle with it instead of me. Much to my... begrudging admission: he was better at it. So, I stood from the chair and headed over to him. The monitor and console were lit up good as new, but they’d been like that for a couple nights now. We’d finally got access to a local map when that’d happened. Or rather a map of the surrounding area, outdated as it was it still had the location of the city on it. It wasn’t like anything had significantly changed in the past hundreds of years since this place had been abandoned. It had been the whole ‘trying to page it into the rest of the old systems at the outpost’ part that’d eluded Juniors little pet project.
“What did you get?” I replied, leaning over his shoulder with a paw on the console while he typed at it.
He cleared his throat. “W-well. I was able to find the wire that’d been causing the problem with the connection to the outpost’s server.” A server? What?
“What do you mean a server? I thought the only computer systems in here were in this room?” He turned his head, a brown eye winking at me. “Nuh-uh! Were you even listening when I explained it earlier? It’s more than just a weather monitoring station. It had a server, otherwise why would it need so many type-v connectors. See?” He pointed a claw to the bundle of wiring running up the wall and into a concrete hole that looked to lead to the next floor above us. Probably. I hadn’t really cared about how many wires there were.
“So... there’s more than just the databanks here in this room?” I asked. My eyes were tasked with looking over the monitor with pursed lips. I’d dug through some ye olde outpost files in the past nights for my journalist program but evidently I’d been missing things if all it took was one kid who had a knack for tech to ascertain there was more to these places.
Before my question could be answered though the command lines and startup protocols on the operating system for the thing had popped by and opened up onto a familiar desktop of our more modern tech. Junior went about clicking immediately to some command line and writing in some jibberish... And- my eyes widened. “What’s that?” I asked, pointing my claw to all the commands on his little black background’d screen.

1: Status
2: Logs
3: Garage Door
4: Barrack Override
5: Communications

Were among the top five, with a half dozen more I didn’t quite have time to think on. “Quick- quick! The uh- There’s a garage?” Don’t get distracted Yivreen. Ahhh moss-heaps.. “The Barrack Override. See what that does.”
The boy swatted away my paw trying to push at it. “Calm down! Calm down jeez, fine!” He jammed his digit into the corresponding number and pressed enter. A few moments passed as it simply displayed three dots. I waited... I waited.. Cmoooo-
Clank. VV-vv-vvv-veeeeeee....
It sounded like something behind the wall to our left was trying to unrust itself and move. A couple hundred years of not moving or being maintained had probably ensured it’d never get moving smooth again. Then of course the universe proved me wrong, and the wall actually shifted. The rounded metal slab I’d taken for a part of the tower’s superstructure began to lower, and behind it... “Holy shit.”
I don’t know where the extreme language had come from but... Wow. My eyes lit. Bunks. Bedding. Lockers.. It looked like the room beyond had been some sort of lodging area for soldiery when this place was built. But there’d been a grow-in on the back wall from a massive root. Snaring part of the room in its gripping-vinelike vice grip. The root was long dead, and the hole it’d bored through the concrete had left the inside exposed to the elements a touch more than if it’d just been left... At least there wasn’t much evidence of water damage.
“Yiv? Are you-” But I was already headed through the way, a paw on my pistol as I glanced around the abandoned room. My mind went right to checking out the lockers, which turned out to be a good idea. My little training sessions into understanding the named bits for guns with Alma were about to start paying off.
“We’ve got guns. Or... Something like guns.” I announced, pulling out the carrying case and flipping it open. Inside I found what looked to be a.. Hrm- no magazine, no bullets... I lifted it up, the rifle-like hardened carbon material was in remarkably good shape. Probably due to the case and materials, but something was different about it. I glanced my eyes over it, noting the electronic aiming system on top which... when I clicked at it offered a red circle for looking through the little scope with. Huh. Not a common thing to find on a Cyonian designed weapon, at least not these nights. This place was old, but this weapon looked like it’d been built by something more ambitious than Federation paws. Federation handhelds were all modified from the same combustion based lead belchers. A fact that rarely ever went unspoken on our own networks when we needed a reason to criticize Aafa.
It took a while longer, but eventually I did find a snap-button on the back of the trigger grip that made something inside it hum to life. My eyes widened. “It’s... An energy weapon.” I murmured. My tail flicking in apprehension. Would it even still fire? The red blinking just below the button told me it must have no power perhaps but... “Hey. Junior. You think you could figure out how to charge one of these guys-?”
I turned my head to see the kid standing at the threshold with his tail in his paws, gripping them anxiously. “Yiv. The uh. The communications aren’t working, but I think the garage door might open if we try it. It could be that cropping of wall and sealed door we figured the old power system must have been housed in right?” He glanced to the rifle in my paws. “I mean, if it uses the same standards as the computer out here it should still be compatible with our stuff. But- we don’t have anything to charge power packs of that size.” He pointed to the fixture sticking out the bottom of the stock. Hrm, he was right.
“See if you can’t get the garage open. I’ll keep looking in here and see if there’s something to help with that.” Came my own voice, I felt... Giddy. Alive. The potential to fight back was intoxicating. Before all I’d had was this dinky pistol I’d used to... kill a couple of the greys. But if we could bring the fight to their patrols, save more people-
I shook my head. Why was I thinking like this? I couldn’t stand up to an invasion fleet. I’d been a frightened Sivkit on the first night of the attack. I- I’d stampeded. I couldn’t remember any of it, but the chance I’d trampled someone in my panic was not zero. I might have contributed to someone being crushed... I’d failed Els, that soldier I’d dragged into the house. Obelisk I couldn’t even keep my mind straight in a fight with those howling, laughing Arxur in my head. The campfire fight had been a fluke!
I didn’t quite know how long I just sat there, staring at the rifle beating myself up, but eventually I was shaken from it by Keick when she sat beside me, an arm on my shoulder. “Hey. I heard you and Junior had a bit breakthrough eh?” She said non-chalantly. I could tell though, even with the chipper tone she’d read me. The accountant knew I’d been in one of my little moods. She’d known me the longest of anyone here, everyone else was like... a pack of convenience? Maybe not Junior. Keick and I had survived the woods together. I’d pulled her from her own hells next to that burning car.
“Hey.” I returned back. “Yeah. Junior got the servers working. Or something like that.” I pointed a claw over at the computer, only to notice he was gone now. I blinked. Had I been out of it that long?
Keick filled in the hole in my head. “He went with his old man to go check out the garage.” Oh. Yeah.
I looked around, “Ah. The guns. We have guns now. Real guns.” I explained, holding the one I had in my paws up for her to inspect.
“Doesn’t look like any gun I’ve seen.” She mused back, taking it from my grip. My body was moving on its own now, rummaging deeper into the lockers. Some of these cases had been broken by the snaring, smaller branches of the grow-in. The firearms within cracked open and busted. Probably no good at all, exposed to the ambient humidity as they had been for so long. Still, couple of the other rifle cases were good. We had weapons, plural. Binoculars? Got em. Spare power packs that needed charging? Got em. There was a lot of survival gear here. Like a militarized ranger outpost had been stationed here. The synthetic material of the camouflaged cloak I found proudly proclaimed it’d reflect thermal scanning on its faded label even! “Either the old rangers from before the treaties were really into operator stuff or the Obelisk put all this here just for us.” I murmured.
Keick, for her part seemed to be looking it all over with a little inventory in her head. Already tapping in the number of each item into her dataslate. “Well. I’d go with the former. The Obelisk hasn’t been around for us lately.” Came the reply as she poked a claw at one of the now entirely spoiled ration packs. “Still, there’s enough stuff here you could arm a squad of soldiers probably. If you know where we can find some spare soldiers that is.”
I flicked my ear at the poor humoured joke. “Ahuh.” Came my reply. “Maybe you should go try the radio again, they’d love to get their paws on stuff like this I think. Pre-war tech actually made to fight predators like this is rare.” Which begged the question... Why did the cloak boast about defeating thermals? These outposts were dated after our discovery and incorporation into the Federation as an early member, and WELL before the Arxur war. So why had we built cloaks like these? Was this equipment used during the years when we’d resisted the burning of our forests and jungles? If so, it meant it might have been auhh... much more violent then the archives made it out to be. Maybe there was a story here? My inner journalist was theorizing.
___________________________
I’d had to pick my jaw up off the ground after headed over to the garage. Hens Senior and Alma were leaned over the the opened hood of what looked like a remarkably still intact forest rover. The design was actually recognizable, having not changed much from what we had tonight. Six thick grooved tires, a buggy-like cockpit four seater set in the middle, and a back and top rack for storing anything you could want. “Is it working?” I asked the obvious as I stepped inside, noting Junior sat off to the side, fiddling with some wall mounted box or other. He didn’t look to actually know what he was doing beyond dusting it off and giving it a deep stare.
“I wouldn’t think so.” Came the chime of Keick, who’d followed me inside. It was around now my monocular visioned eyes were noting the various tools and spare parts laying around in the garage. Whoever had last been here had left in a hurry seemingly, because it was mostly stocked. No mess on all the immensely dusty parts. I could see a couple smaller fauna in the corners. A lizard here, a rodent there. Obviously there had been some way they’d chewed their way in at some point... Or they’d come in when the door was opened to the bustle and noise of the forest to my back.
It was Senior who looked back at my question, standing to his full height before leaning his back against the old vehicle. “No. It isn’t working. Or at least it won’t be until I figure a way to give the battery juice.” I tilted my head.
“Is it one of those older ones that zap out after a hundred years or so?” Came my obvious question.
He flicked his tail no. “It’s got one of the standard ones, it’s just that it stopped auto-cycling a couple hundred years ago. The electric motor looks like it should work if we pop it on. But we’ll have to see.” He glanced around the workshop. “I want to say we could probably get it working with the tools we have, but if the battery can’t be jumped, or it’s spent, or the motor needs a complete replacement we’re up a creek on getting it working.” It sounded like he knew a bit about it.
The feeling of my face scrunching ever so much came. “You didn’t tell me you were a handyman.” I said, crossing my arms.
“Well it never came up.” He said back with an affable smile. “Listen, it’s been a long couple weeks. Don’t get all spotty with me. We didn’t have anything a hobbying mechanic could fix anyhow.” Just a roll of the eyes from myself is all that met him as Keick spoke up, stepping over to the other three.
“So what’re you gonna jump it with?” She asked incredulously, leaning over the open cabin. From there I sort of... zoned out. All the older Cyonians present were bickering and blathering about the buggy which was quickly losing interest for me. I didn’t understand anything about mechanics like that beyond the bare minimum, so it was out of my purview. If they got it working that’d be another thing but I wouldn’t have been any help right now, so instead I placed a couple careful paws down until I was beside Junior, sitting next to him as he seemed to be eyeballing some far too faded label.
He had a paw lightly rubbing out the dust that’d caked an outlet, still one brown eye fixed on the label. All I could make out myself was the little yellow square symbol warning of an electric charge hazard. Weird to think even now those hadn’t changed. Had Federation technology really not changed all that much? Was it just us? A sigh. “So. What’s got your your nose twitching little dude?”
The past couple nights he’d gotten better with his anger, and... hadn’t destroyed any important tech in a fit of rage. All he’d needed was something to set himself to in a difficult situation like this. Keich had been right to set him on that computer. And.. I’d felt myself trying to encourage him along the way. Partly because I had an investment in getting those maps, and then partly because he’d ended up filling in a spot in my head like a younger cousin. Him and his old man had only been around for a little bit, but I guess maybe I didn’t want to think too hard about what had probably happened to my real family. For now, maybe I felt the most ‘at home’ around Keich and this little tinkerer. Was that weird? It felt like it should be weird.
He answered, looking up with a small upturn in his lips. “I think I found your energy cell charger for those guns you had.” He said simply. “One of the manuals over there wasn’t totally ruined, I saw something about a ‘optical projector weapon’ and ‘charger’ so I was trying to figure out if this was it. I... Think it might be, but I’d need one of those batteries to make sure.”
Now I felt like smirking. “Oh yeah? Well go get one swamp brain. Let’s see if these things still work huh?” Dutifully, he was up and off, tail shaking behind him in what I recognized as excitement. We weren’t totally defenceless anymore, and if the buggy could be salvaged there would be a means at least to relocate if we had to. Or... Maybe I could take a trip down to the city and paint a couple more of those scumbags red-
I shook my head. Where had that thought come from? If I was going back to Ataln it was to try and save more people... Yeah. I still needed to see if Gael was alive, maybe check that old house I’d left Els in. I don’t even know if I could find it now, knowing how scatterbrained I’d been at the time but- making a return to at least try seemed worth it.
Regardless, the box on the wall did turn out to be the correct port to charge energy cells for the guns. We’d just need to rig it up to the solar power system and juice them up to test them. Things were looking up! Our mobility had the potential to go from nights in every direction for shelter to mere hours, I’d just have to hope Senior knew what he was doing.
“Hey. Buddy.” I’d wrapped my arm around Junior’s shoulder. “Why don’t you go take a break for now huh? You were working on the computer all night. Maybe it’d be a good idea to just go relax. Enjoy how much you got done eh?” Besides. Gave me a good way to check out the logs page on the computer system myself before he stumbled on anything. It wasn’t like I didn’t trust him with it but- well there was no way to know what was in those logs.
He nodded, and with that I stood up, streeeetched out, and headed toward the tower. “Good, it’s your shift on the guard tower anyway.” I intoned politely. It was going to be a long day, assuming there was anything of substance in those logs... Scrounging through those would be preferable to sleeping right now anyway.

In June 2023, i weighed 210 lbs with very little muscle and since then i’ve been strength training and dieting. I now weigh 170 lbs and my body looks a lot different, but my chest still seems disproportionally large. I still have a lot of body fat, but I’m not sure if i have gyno or if it’ll go away as I work out more. When i feel it, it’s soft and squishy just like fat anywhere else, i don’t feel anything hard.