Sore muscle /pins and needles causes

He used to humiliate me at my job and rage at me over the stupidest things in public. Talk down to me about my weight after having a baby and dealing with depression (that he caused). Lock me in rooms and force me to listen to him while he lied about making plans to change. Flirt with other women and have inappropriate conversations with them through text and on social media over and over again despite me telling him that I found it disrespectful. Threaten to throw glass in my face, or even kill me at times, when I offended him. Call my parents or his family to involve them in our fights and manipulate them to his POV. Assign blame for little mishaps to our kids for no reason and reprimand them harshly to where they would cry and I would have to intervene. Make us all afraid and run to our rooms when he would come home from work and couldn’t find the remote. Pin me down and force me to have sex when I said no, apologize for it, then do it again. The list sadly goes on…
And even with all this, I stayed. And any time I gathered up enough courage to pack my bags and leave, he would always hook me back in with the endless empty promises. It took for him to discard me and leave town this most recent time for me to unlock all those memories and be able see him fully for the demon-possessed person he is. Every good or kind quality he ever displayed was fake. He was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, charming the entire world including our families to believe he was this loving and devoted father and husband. I don’t think I will ever forgive him, and that’s to be expected. But how the hell am I supposed to forgive myself? This is my struggle.
I was the giving tree, like the book goes. And he is the little boy who keeps coming back for more until there is nothing left. Now that he’s used me all up he’s gone again. And I’m here alone picking up the scraps of me that were haphazardly left behind. He’ll probably come back for these little pieces too sometime soon, but I’ve reclaimed them for me and me only. I can’t believe I let someone take me from myself like this, and for so long.

Im glad y'all liked the last chapter. I'm going to continue this story and see where it goes. As usual, if you like this then make sure to like and comment: I really value your feedback. I'm also thinking of going back and editing some things, as I thought of some cool ideas that might make the story more interesting, mainly some Meta ideas to increase the depth of this litRPG. So make sure to go back and read the last chapter in a bit: some things may be different.
First
I gripped the rough leather hilt of my new sword tightly as I walked down the newly lit hall within this strange labyrinth. The air was dank and musty, and cobwebs hung from every corner. The dented blade glowed in the firelight, as did the breastplate, and I was just starting to warm up.
I didn't like this place: it made me feel uneasy. The loneliness was also crushing, but for some reason I was used to it. The weight of all my gear was also heavy, with all the weapons and rations causing my shoulders to ache, but I pressed forward. Something inside me insisted that this was familiar, and if I could do it before then I could do it now.
At first, the hall seemed unending, but after what felt like hours I finally reached a large, open room with a humble wooden throne in the center. The edges of the vaulted ceilings held great tapestries that had faded over time, the once magnificent artistry lost forever. Candelabras, urns, and braziers all forged from bronze and inlaid with different gems and precious metals were strewn about, and there was a gigantic bronze brazier at the center of the room, just in front of the throne.
On the throne sat a withered corpse wearing a crown of twisted branches, as well as rusted armor that had fused with flesh long ago. Simple wooden coffins lined the walls, six in total, each likely containing another corpse.
Then I noticed the brazier in the middle: it had long gone cold, the coals dead and waiting to be given life again by flame. But what worried me more was the burnt remains of the skeleton in the center: it was a reptilian thing, tall and robust judging by the size of the femurs, and it gripped a sword much like mine…
Okay, I didn't like this place at all, not one bit. Whoever was here before me obviously met some horrible fate, maybe even burnt alive within the brazier, which was a fate I had no desire to experience.
Next to the throne was a chest, and anyone with common sense knew that opening the chest would probably be a bad idea. So I looked for something far more valuable: an exit. At the far end of the room we're a pair of double doors made from polished slate, and soni approached them. I ran my scaly hands across it and admiring the beautiful masonwork: engraved with elegant images of all sorts of events, such as men slaying giants, terrifying dragons burning down villages, great treasures hidden away, and a large mead hall with a boat as it's roof nestled on a hill, it was something out of legend. But that didn't matter, I just needed them to open so I could leave. They didn't budge from me pushing them, nor did they possess any handles or bars, so something else has to activate them.
I decided to see if I could get some answers out of the magic note turned journal. I pulled it out and began writing with the quill, the tip seemingly possessing an endless supply of ink. How do I open the doors?
Once again, my good hand began moving if it had a mind of its own, scribbling out a minimalist sentence that would probably be of no use to me. Open the chest.
I grumbled and wrote down another response. Will bad things happen if I open the chest?
More furious scribbling against my will. Bad things will happen either way.
Well, that was reassuring.
What will happen when I open the chest?
Bad things. I wanted to punt the book across the room. I just stuffed it back into my bag and growled again, the depth of my reptilian voice startling me. I was sure I wasn't supposed to sound like that, but I did. Maybe I was just overthinking this, and it was just a side effect of some kind of amnesia, but I really felt like I was in the wrong body.
I turned back to the throne and the chest next to it. It was a simple wooden thing with no lock, so it wouldn't be challenging to open at all. I walked towards it, sword in hand, anxiety shooting through me like electricity, and as I bent down to open it up I couldn't help but look behind me as I did so.
Then, with one simple motion, I opened it. There was more than I expected, but still not much, just a small pile of rough gold coins and a few assorted gems. I dipped my hand into the gold and pulled out a handful, the coins each easily the width of a golf ball and decently hefty too. Then I looked for a place to put them: if I was going to be put in danger for opening this damn chest, then I was going to get something out of it.
As I stuffed the gold into my pack, I heard creaking next to me, and I instinctively dropped my pack onto the ground and kicked it to the side before rolling away. The withered corpse lifted itself up from the wooden throne, a faint hissing escaping its lips as if its vocal chords no longer worked. Then it turned to me, eyes glowing red with hatred and jaw clenched. It balled its fists and deeper its hateful gaze before pointing at me and unleashing an ear-splitting hiss like that of copper pipes coming apart. I lifted up my longsword and held it in a defensive stance, backing away slowly as my ears rang. Then I felt a bony hand on my shoulder.
I spun around and swung the blade, vivisecting another corpse halfway. All the other coffins were bursting open, and the angered dead were hobbling out, some holding rusted and chipped weapons, others simply meandering towards me with the same hatred in their eyes as the first. I was surrounded.
I swung my sword and cut one’s head off, the otherwise dry and leathery flesh of its neck giving way to my old longsword. Then I sliced through the knee of another, sending it sprawling to the ground before I stomped its head into pieces. That left four, including the one on the throne. That one stood back, glaring at me and waving its hands as if conducting an orchestra, its armored robes flowing despite the lack of ventilation. It must be the one controlling the undead.
I matched forward, sword lifted again and swung at the leader of the undead. It blocked the strike with its armored bracer and swiped at me, bony hands scraping against my breastplate but also imbuing me with an overwhelming weakness to the touch, as if I hadn't slept for days. With a grunt, I kicked him back and onto the floor, but the rest of the dead seemed to fall into a frenzy, charging at me as if they were rabid ghouls. I needed to end this, and I needed to end it now.
I impaled the first undead and kicked him off alongside their ringleader, then slammed the pommel of by sword into the forehead of the next with a spiteful roar that seemed to charge the air with static, crushing the undead’s skull inward and releasing the energy trapped within as if crumbled to the floor. The third swiped at my arm, causing an intense cold to run through me and a horrible pain to erupt from the deceptively small laceration, as if maggots were chewing on my flesh. I roared again and swung diagonally, vivisecting the decrepit thing all at once.
That left the composer. It stood back up and seemed even angrier than before, as if it had actually cared for those skeletons. Then I heard a voice behind its bestial whispers, a voice that almost sounded… pained. “Hadvar, Børge, Aegilief, Gunhild, Halfdan, Ivar! Do not fall, not to this dragon’s bastard!” It seemed to exclaim, but its cries seemed to fall on deaf ears as the corpses were no more, what remained of the flesh disintegrating into nothing more than ash, leaving only dirty bones behind.
“You shouldn't have attacked me.” I said behind grit fangs, my body still recovering from the effects of their icy touch. But no matter how much I tried to justify it to myself, it always felt like a weak response: I was probably plundering some poor guy's tomb, and then proceeded to kill all his friends to boot. I was in the wrong here, but I wasn't just going to be trapped in this shit hole of a tomb forever.
Then I looked at the brazier, which was now lit and burning, the otherwise bleached white bones of the reptile thing within coated in fresh soot. They would've killed me, or I would've starved. And they were already dead, anyway: for all I knew the undead here were held together by nothing more than old memories and whatever terrible magic possessed this place. I wasn't going to die yet, I at least wanted to see the sun one last time.
“Sorry about you and your friends, but I'm not going to die here today,” I said, trying to seem apologetic, “I've only got one shot, or so I've been told.” I matched forward again, unwavering, and busted him in the head with my pommel before slicing off his arm at the joint when he tried to reach out for me again, hissing with anger. Then, as I bullied him backwards to put some length between us, I finally kicked him one last time and jammed the end of my sword into his empty eye socket, sending the blade through his rotting head and out the back. He let out one last hiss before going limp, whatever magical nonsense holding him together dissipating as his body crumpled and his bones unknitted themselves.
I dropped the sword with a grunt and sank to my knees. My head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and my stomach was churning. The horrible sickness the undead gave me when it swiped at me seemed to be winding down, the pain in my arm dull and more distracting than painful, but the unbearable cold and discomfort was still coursing through me. I needed to get out of this wretched place. This was a tomb, right? Maybe that door led to some kind of exit to the outdoors, or at least a pathway to it.
I forced myself back up on my feet, retrieved my bag and filled it with the rest of the treasure from the chest, and strapped everything on my back once again. I would probably want to find some kind of civilization, maybe a place where this gold would hold some value, because then maybe I could use it to find some answers.
Behind me, the doors began to crumble with a glowing purple light, as if the magic that has sealed it had been broken with the death of the undead on the throne, and I could see some semblance of light. I rushed towards it, only to find myself in an even colder area than before. The air was frigid and filled with a thick, looking fog that seemed to sap the strength out of me. It felt like an early spring morning, when it would go just above freezing and the rain had come in droves overnight, leaving behind the mist. Spruces, pines and other evergreen trees towered around me, and the forest floor was coated in thick roots, mossy rocks, vines, and dead evergreen needles. A dirt path that had long been overtaken by the forest stretched away from the tomb I had emerged from, leading me away from this place.

I sit alone in my room on the seventh floor, writing what will surely be my last will and testament. The heroin which allowed me to forget and to sleep for the last couple of years has lost its power to keep the screaming terrors away. The drug destroyed my body and mind, gradually eating away at them like a corrosive acid. Now I have become a slave to it. And yet, without it, I do not sleep for weeks, but instead continuously see the scenes from that terrible night running through my head on repeat as worsening waves of madness crash on the shores of my consciousness.
In the caverns under the town of Frost Hollow, I found the meaning of true madness. Ever since I escaped that den of horrors, it is difficult to tell what is real and what is only the feverish delirium of an unhinged mind.
Even now, they wait behind the door to this cheap, bare rented room. They drag their claws over the wood. I hear them hissing in that strange, ancient tongue, the one I first heard in the tombs of rock that had been undisturbed for countless millennia.
***
I had first heard rumors of an unexplored cavern from my friend, an experienced caver named Sonia who had explored caverns all over the world. I had been looking for some excitement in my life, some break from the constant monotony and boredom of simply working and sleeping. I had gone caving quite a few times over the year leading up to the trip, but I was not nearly as experienced and had never explored a supposedly virgin passageway of cavern before.
“How do you know no one’s gone down there?” I asked, curious. We sat across from each other at a local diner, getting some early breakfast before our planned descent. The sunrise was still another half-hour away, the sky flat and dark. We would be joined by Sonia’s husband, Phil, who would meet us there shortly after sunrise. I repressed an urge to yawn, chugging half of the steaming hot coffee in one long swallow. Sonia leaned close to me, her nearly colorless blue eyes reminding me of chunks of ice floating down a muddy stream.
“Phil’s friend just found it randomly,” she whispered before glancing around conspiratorially, as if she feared someone would care enough to eavesdrop on a conversation about a cave. “Well, it’s in the middle of a farm, and Phil’s friend, Jack Graysole, owns the entire property and surrounding woods. Jack says he noticed the cows kept going over to a certain spot in the field when it got really hot during the summertime. They would all gather around this little indentation in the grass. After seeing it a few times, Jack got curious and went to investigate what the cows were doing.
“He found a small hole in the ground, almost entirely covered by weeds and grass. He said he felt a cool breeze constantly blowing out of the hole, a breeze that smelled like burning matches and charred metal. After bringing out some shovels and digging down a couple feet, Jack realized that the hole wasn’t a hole at all, but the beginning of a steep passageway leading deep into the bowels of the earth.”
***
The owner of the land decided to unofficially call the newly-discovered cavern Graysole Caverns. Out of respect for him, this is also the name we all used. This is the story of how I found myself in the bowels of a strange subterranean tunnel, a tunnel where creatures beyond my comprehension slunk and hunted, skittering monstrosities who would be more at home in a nightmare.
After grabbing a couple coffees to take with us, Sonia drove over to Graysole Farms. Cows stood out in the grassy fields, huddled in tight circles as they repetitively chewed. The thin silhouette of Jack Graysole waited for us next to the herd. He had a face like a raisin, I thought to myself. I watched his thin, shaking body standing in the middle of an overgrown grassy field. Jack stared down blankly at something only he could see. Sonia and I started unloading some equipment from the car while we waited for Phil.
Once we had the backpacks loaded with some simple supplies, such as water, food, headlamps, rope, a couple extra batteries, some buck knives, and radios, we headed over to accompany Jack. We weren’t taking much, as we didn’t really expect to be down there for more than six or seven hours at the most.
Jack Graysole’s withered old face was as slack and expressionless as that of a corpse. He stared down at the ground as if he were in a trance, waving back and forth slowly on his feet like a plant in a light breeze.
“Jack?” Sonia called out as we approached. I could hear the man’s teeth chattering as we got nearer.
“Hey, what are you doing over here this early? You interested in accompanying us down there?” Sonia joked. But Jack might as well have been totally deaf for all the reaction he gave. Sonia glanced over at me with an anxious expression. I wondered if the old man was having a stroke.
I quickly walked over to where he stood, staring down at a black circular hole about three feet across directly in front of his feet. The entrance to Graysole Caverns stared up at us like a sightless pupil. As I drew within a few feet of Jack and looked straight into his blank eyes, I noticed something alarming.
His pupils were quickly dilating and constricting before my eyes. They would shrink to tiny pinpoints, then, a couple seconds later, rapidly expand until they became dark and serious. I could see his thready, rapid heartbeat pulsating in a vein on the side of his temple. Alarmed, I reached forward and put my hand on his shoulder.
Instantly, he came to life, like a man waking up from a nightmare. Shrieking, he looked at me with fully dilated pupils, reminding me of a panicked deer surrounded by wolves. His quavering old man’s voice shook with ineffable existential horror and mortal fear.
He took a step back away from us, seeming to realize where he was and what he was doing. He looked around, confused, then straight at me and Sonia. His eyes focused with anger and fear, as if we were demons here to drag him down to Hell. His eyes flicked back and forth between us constantly. Jack raised a trembling hand and pointed it straight at my heart.
“It’s you,” he said, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. His teeth chattered despite the warm spring air. His skin looked deathly pale. “You’re the one who will bring an end to humanity, who will release the ruler of nightmares upon us.” He continued to point accusingly for a long moment at me, his face turning chalk-white. Then his eyes rolled up in his head. Slowly, he stumbled and fell backwards onto the soft grass of the field.
“Jack!” Sonia cried, running over to the old man. Jack’s breaths had started to come in slow, drawn-out gurgles, like a man with a slit throat trying to breathe. Frothy blood bubbled from his lips as they turned blue. Staring up at the endless expanse of cloudless sky, he exhaled one last shuddering breath and died.
***
Phil showed up only a couple minutes later. He found me and Sonia in a state of utter panic, both of us bent double over the still body of Jack. Sonia was on the phone with 911, and I was trying to give Jack chest compressions. The way his fingernails and lips shone with that cyanotic blue cast made me feel sick and weak. I knew it was futile, that I was simply playing with a corpse at this point, but I didn’t know what else to do. I felt if I didn’t do something, I might explode.
I heard the faint wailing of sirens approaching as Sonia’s panicked voice continued babbling to the 911 operator. Phil stood by her side, his tall, dark features searching and lost.
“Oh God, I think he’s dead!” Sonia cried over and over to the operator, as if she thought the operator could do anything about it. I didn’t hear what the operator said in response. As the ambulance pulled in, I gave up on chest compressions. I stood up and took a step back, looking sadly down on the kindly old man’s dead body.
The paramedics ran over. Phil, Sonia and I stood back while they worked on the corpse, trying to shock the heart back into life. But Jack’s open eyes stayed glazed as they stared sightlessly up into eternity.
***
The paramedics left. A couple police officers stayed behind to ask us a few routine questions. Eventually, after an hour or so, they left, too.
“What a fucked-up day,” Phil said, shaking his head grimly. “Do you guys still want to do this? Maybe it’s an omen from God telling us to go home.” Sonia and I exchanged a glance, then we both nodded at the same time.
“Definitely,” she said. “It’s sad what happened to Jack, but realistically, we don’t know what’s going to happen to this property now that he’s passed away. It might get sold or taken by the bank for all we know. This could be our one and only chance to explore this cave.”
“I don’t believe in omens. I’m still down,” I said, feeling slightly sick from the experience. I still remembered how Jack’s body had cracked under the weight of my chest compressions, how his ribs had snapped like bones shattering in greedy hands. “We’ll do it in memory of Jack. I plan to put this up on YouTube.” I pulled my GoPro out of my bag, turning it on. Phil groaned at that.
“Do we have any idea how far down this cave goes?” Phil asked. I felt a sense of relief now that the topic had changed from the death of the old man.
“I sent a little camera down on a rope, but it only went about a hundred feet,” Sonia responded. “It’s pretty steep at first, then it levels out. I couldn’t really see much after it leveled out, but it looks like it should be easy to climb down. There’s plenty of handholds, lots of jutting rocks.”
Phil put on his headlamp and small pack. As he crawled down into the hole, his tanned face looked up at us and gave us one last devilish grin. Once he had gone down a few dozen feet, Sonia started descending. She looked excited and happy. I noticed how she couldn’t stop smiling as she disappeared from view.
I watched their lights grow smaller and dimmer in the circular tunnel. I marveled at how perfectly circular the entrance was. It almost didn’t even look natural.
Taking a deep breath in, I followed my friends down into the dark.
***
“This isn’t too bad,” I said as I climbed down. The jutting rocks gave plenty of handholds and footholds for us. It wasn’t so tight that it felt like a coffin, either.
“It only gets easier from here!” Sonia called up.
“How do you know?” I asked. “You said you’ve never been here before.” She laughed.
“I know. Probably just wishful thinking,” she said. Far below us, Jack’s voice drifted up, faint and weak. He had already reached the bottom.
“The tunnel really opens up down here, guys,” he called. “It’s somewhat… bizarre, though.”
“What do you mean by that?” Sonia asked. I looked down, seeing Sonia and I would reach the bottom in seconds. “Forget it, I’ll let it be a surprise.” I heard her drop down. Slowly and carefully, I lowered myself down the last few feet. There was a short fall onto a smooth granite floor. I looked up, seeing what Phil and Sonia were so mesmerized by.
“Oh, wow,” I said, speechless. I blinked rapidly, wondering if the image would clear like a mirage. The tunnel was cut into a perfectly triangular shape, each side about seven feet long. The ceiling met in a point above our heads.
All along the smooth walls of gray rock, I saw thousands of black orbs peeking out. They looked similar to obsidian, but they were perfectly smooth and circular, each about the size of an orange. They were formed into interlocking diagonal patterns and followed the tunnel straight down as far as the eye could see.
“What is this place?” Sonia asked, taking a tentative step forward. I looked up, seeing the distant pinpoint of sunlight far above our heads. Our voices continued to echo off down the massive tunnels, disappearing in eerie waves into the thick curtain of shadows.
“Are you recording all this?” Phil asked me. I laughed, giddy.
“Of course! This is internet gold right here,” I said. “No one’s going to believe that this isn’t man-made, however. I can’t even believe it. Do you think Jack was playing a joke on us or something?”
“Jack had the sense of humor of a wet paper towel,” Phil whispered, shaking his head. “No, he wouldn’t do something like this.”
“Well, let’s go check it out,” Sonia said, taking a step forward. Her headlamp bobbed up and down rapidly, throwing dancing shadows through the triangular tunnel. It continued straight ahead, without the slightest deviation or curve, disappearing off into a dark point in the distance.
***
We walked as fast as we could, excited to see where, if anywhere, the strange tunnel led. Phil, always the conspiracy theorist, babbled excitedly.
“This has to be aliens, man,” he said, running his fingers through his dark hair. “I bet that scientists will find out this shit is millions of years old when we get back up and tell everyone. Maybe aliens came to earth in ancient times and made a bunch of stuff underground.” Gradually, as we walked, I noticed the tunnel opening up. The pointed triangular ceiling rose up higher above our heads and the walls moved outwards, as we were walking up a triangular funnel. At first, it was so subtle that I didn’t believe it when Sonia pointed it out.
“No, look,” she said, raising her hand above her head. “When we first started down this weird tunnel, my fingers were only maybe a foot away from the top. Now it’s a couple feet.” I was about to respond when our headlamps illuminated something standing in the middle of the tunnel.
“What the fuck is that?” I whispered, stopping cold in my tracks. Phil and Sonia looked up at the abomination at the same time. Its back was to us. It stood nearly as tall as the tunnel, which was now about twenty feet high.
The bottom half looked black and spidery with dozens of long, jointed legs. A bloody, white spine rose out of the mass of legs. Inhumanly long, skeletal arms stretched out in front of it. Its face was pointed away from us, but the back of its head resembled an enormous pointed skull with deep fissures like the cracks of an earthquake running through the bone. The abomination stayed as still as a statue, and for a long moment, I wondered if we were looking at some macabre work of art.
Then, suddenly, one of its insectile legs twitched. A moment later, the other legs started jerking and twisting. There was a sound like bones shattering as it rose up to its full height, turning around to face us.
Its face was like something from a nightmare, melting and reforming constantly like dripping candle wax. I would see a black eye appear on its forehead, then a grinning mouth on its chin, then the features would get sucked back into the folds of melting flesh. After a few moments, two enormous eyes appeared on its face, dark and cold like craters on the surface of the Moon. The mouths and noses disappeared back into the dripping skin, and only the two lidless eyes remained, emanating a cold, reptilian consciousness beyond the ability of my mind to comprehend. I felt terror radiating from its body like freezing waves.
“Free me,” it cried in a gurgling voice that seethed with insanity. It had a shrieking, metallic ringing behind every word that gave it an alien quality. “Free me, and I will give you the waters of eternal life. Within me, I contain the seeds of immortality. Within the nightmares, we live forever, always together, never alone.”
“Who are you?” I asked, terrified. The black reptilian skin of the enormous beast glistened as it knelt down, its massive face drawing near to mine. A sideways mouth burst out of the liquified flesh, showing hundreds of fangs growing like tumors from its white, bloodless gums. The fangs varied in size from only a couple inches to long, sword-like projections that stabbed into the creature’s flesh, causing white blood glittering with rainbows to fall like raindrops all around me.
“I have many names,” it hissed, its thousand voices rising and falling in crashing waves of sound. “I was present at the beginning, when this planet was no more than dead cliffs and endless freezing oceans. Those holy ones who search for us, the ancient ones, call me Niralahoth.”
“How do we free you?” Phil asked, looking terrified. He held Sonia’s hand tightly.
“By letting me into your mind and body,” Niralahoth cried, shaking the cavern. “I was thrown down here, cursed and forgotten. I cannot leave this place of shadows within this body. But in the body of another, my consciousness can be free, and the seeds of new life can spread beyond this prison.”
“There’s no way anyone’s going to do that,” I said, my eyes widening as Niralahoth’s reptilian skull turned towards me in fury. “I mean, you’re asking one of us to give up our individuality, our lives, right?”
“I am asking you to become one with me and gain power undreamt of by mortals,” it cried. “I have within me the fountain of life, the waters that send death away screaming.” I glanced anxiously at Phil and Sonia, wondering if we would have to run.
“The answer is no,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, we can’t do that,” Phil said, backing me up. “But, anyways, I think our trip has ended. It’s time to turn around…”
“You will never return,” Niralahoth cried, skittering away from us. “If you will not accept salvation, then you must accept death.” Within seconds, it slunk away from us, backpedaling on its many skittering legs into the shadows.
***
All around us, a rumbling started.
There was a pounding that crashed through the rock tunnel, as if an insane blacksmith were hammering on a massive anvil. The ringing of crashing rock started off slowly, with a few stones smashing down around us with heavy blasts of sound. Within seconds, the cacophony sped up, rising into a constant stream of destruction. The black orbs were spinning in place all up and down the tunnel, their glossy obsidian surfaces flashing with sparks of blue light.
“It’s collapsing!” Phil cried, running back in the direction we came, holding Sonia’s hand as she tried to keep up with him. I could only stare for a long moment, not sure what to do. It seemed that the direction Phil was heading stood closer to total collapse.
“Wait!” I cried, but my voice was drowned out in the destruction all around us. I felt a rock smash into my shoulder, sending me down to my feet. I heard Phil give a scream of pain, then another stone came down and smashed into my forehead. I remember seeing everything spinning around me as the world went black.
***
I awoke to find my headlamp still shining straight up in the dusty tunnel. Large chunks of the tunnel had slid out of place and crashed to the stone floor. The granite chunks that had fallen looked unnaturally smooth, most of them in the shapes of cylinders or cubes and varying in size from that of an egg to that of a small car.
My head throbbed. It felt as if a tight belt of fire were wrapped around my temples. Groaning, I put my fingers up to my forehead. They came away slick with blood.
Slowly, I started pushing myself up on my feet. I was relieved that nothing seemed broken. I had a deep gash running from the center of my scalp down to my left temple and some shallower cuts on my shoulders and back, but I knew none of that was life-threatening.
“Sonia?” I whispered, my voice coming out weak and strained. I reached into my pack and found a bottle of water. I chugged it quickly in one long swallow.
“Phil?” I cried again, this time stronger. I heard a soft weeping nearby. Staggering, I followed the sound.
Sonia was bloody and covered in cuts and scrapes, sitting next to Phil’s prone form. I saw Phil’s right arm pinned under a massive slab of granite. His arm disappeared from the elbow down in a spreading puddle of thick, dark blood.
“Oh God, Max, I think he’s hurt really bad,” she wept. Phil’s eyes rolled wildly in his head, his face pale and bloodless. I looked down the way we had come, seeing the entire tunnel blocked by large slabs of stone, many with strange, black orbs peeking out like the lenses of cameras.
***
I don’t know how much time passed. My phone died after a day, and then we were counting the endless darkness in breaths and tears.
Phil swam in and out of consciousness as his arm putrefied and blackened around the crush site. After a couple days, Sonia and I agreed that something had to be done. We told Phil we would need to amputate his arm. He was half-delirious, but he came back long enough to understand us and nod weakly.
We made a fire with Phil’s pack, trying to find fuel to throw in it to get it roaring. As it grew, I saw one of the black orbs near the flames abruptly ignite, as if it had been covered in gasoline. Blue, almost colorless flames rose from its surface. We started throwing the small black orbs on the fire until it rose high in the air. I sanitized the buck knife with the flames and pulled a rope tourniquet tight around Phil’s arm. He was conscious but seemingly insane, talking to himself more than anyone else.
“How are we going to get the car started without a key?” he gurgled to someone only he could see. “We need to look around. It has to be here somewhere.”
“Phil, can you hear me, bud? We need to fix your arm. We need to get you out of this mess. OK?” I said as comfortingly as I could. Phil’s eyes rolled wildly, but they didn’t meet my own. I sighed and looked over at Sonia.
“Let’s do it,” I said, giving a grim nod.
I pulled the buck knife out, slicing quickly down through the flesh next to the tourniquet. His veins throbbed like fat worms as the blackened, necrotic skin split easily under the blade, releasing a rancid-smelling gas that hissed out of the wound.
I couldn’t believe how hard it was to slice all the way through the arm. It felt like I was stuck in that hellish task forever. Phil’s eyes rolled in his head as his skin turned the color of clotted milk.
“God, Jesus, make it stop,” Phil whispered over and over, exhaling ragged, pain-filled breaths. The blood spurted from the blackened, dying tissue all over the dust-covered cavern floor, covering my hands in its warm, slick embrace.
After what was probably only three or four minutes, but felt like hours, I had sliced all the way down to the bone. The infected tissue of his arm spurted great gouts of orange pus mixed with rivulets of blood. The hard part was over.
Standing up, I took my steel-toe sneaker and stomped down on his arm as hard as I could. Phil cried out in a powerful voice, as if all the agony and suffering in the world was contained in that one shriek. The bone snapped under my weight with a sound like a tree branch cracking. A moment later, Phil rolled away from the rock that had pinned me in place for so long. Something alien and spongy was shoved into my face, a mass of destroyed red tissue pulsating in time with a runaway heartbeat. At first, shell-shocked and revolted, my mind couldn’t comprehend that I was looking at the stump of Phil’s mutilated arm. I hardened my heart and forced the giddiness and madness to the back of my mind. The time had come to cauterize the wound.
“Sonia, give it to me,” I said with a tremor in my voice. I reached out a hand towards her, a hand stained with Phil’s blood. It looked as if I were wearing a wet, crimson glove. Sonia only stared blankly at me for a long moment, however. A surge of anger ran up my chest.
“Sonia, toughen the fuck up! He’s going to die if you just sit there!” I swore at her, hearing my deep, angry voice bounce around the caverns. Sonia pulled back, as if she were struck. Inwardly, I cursed having a woman as my only able-bodied companion in this situation. She was a competent enough caver, but what would happen if violence and blood came over us? What would happen if, or more realistically when, we needed to fight?
Grimly, Sonia leaned forward and yanked the burning black orb out of the roaring fire, handing it to me on the end of a buck knife that had just barely pierced its hard, strange exterior. The handle of the knife felt coarse and splintery under my filthy skin. I put it to the spongy stump of Phil’s arm. The stump twitched violently. Phil tried to pull away as black smoke rose from the burning flesh.
There was a smell like bacon sizzling. The searing meat of Phil’s arm blackened and crisped under the heat of the orb, which had become no more than a cylinder of glowing blue embers by this point. I felt simultaneously sick and giddy. I didn’t know if I wanted to laugh or vomit. I felt like I was on the verge of some kind of madness, that the stress and insanity of the experience had started to shatter my mind.
His eyes rolled back in his head and he appeared to go into a seizure for a few seconds. With a long exhalation of breath, he finally, mercifully, lost consciousness. It’s hard to admit it, even this close to the end, but a small, sick piece of me was jealous of Phil. Most likely, he would be dead soon, maybe within hours, while Sonia and I would slowly starve and dehydrate like animals over a period of weeks. I looked at her lithe body and soft skin, seeing the feminine curves of her hips and chest. She was a beautiful woman. I knew Phil to be a lucky man. At least, before this trip, he was.
I watched her body, wondering if I had what it took to eat her or Phil if I had to. Did I have an iron heart that would allow me to slice into my friends and consume their raw, cold flesh? Perhaps, by that point, it would be hunger and madness driving me forward, and I wouldn’t even hesitate. I shuddered at the very thought.
***
I fell asleep that night, having strange dreams of massive gods with melting faces sitting in judgment in a circle around me. We had very little food or water left. No one knew we were down here. Rescue was not coming.
When I awoke, I found myself alone. Phil had died from his injuries while I slept, the black streaks of septic shock spreading up his arm towards his heart. His eyes stared sightlessly up at the rock ceiling.
“Sonia?” I called out, my heart racing as I sat up. “Where are you?” My headlamp was growing dim. I looked in my pack, realizing I was on the last of my batteries. I saw a silhouette walking out of the darkness, the thin, pale form of Sonia. She was trembling badly.
“I saw them,” she said. “Niralahoth and its priests. The priests aren’t human. They look reptilian with sideways mouths and too many eyes.” She shuddered.
“Why would you do that?” I asked. Her eyes grew distant.
“You know we’re not getting out of here alive,” she said. “Not on our own. I wanted to see what it offered. It says that if we take a piece of its nightmare into us, we will gain the power to leave this place, that it simply wants to see the surface and spread its nightmares there.” I shook my head.
“Insanity,” I muttered. “We’d be better off dead.” Sonia nodded.
“My thoughts exactly,” she responded grimly. I didn’t realize what she meant until the next day, when I woke up and found her hanging next to Phil’s body, her tongue swollen and blue as it poked out of her cyanotic lips. And then I was truly alone.
***
Soon after Sonia committed suicide, the last of the batteries for the headlamp died. I had run out of food and had only a small sip of water left. I don’t know how much time passed in the darkness, starving and raving, following the tunnel by running my hands over the walls. I heard many things skittering in the darkness, and a few times, I heard the demonic voice of Niralahoth as it split and distorted.
“You are on death’s door,” it hissed. “Will you not drink from the fountain of life?” I couldn’t tell where the voice came from in the maddening blackness. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. I had lost nearly all of my sanity in that pit of shadows by this point. I tried laughing constantly to keep my spirits up, and when that failed, I simply cried.
“I’ll do it,” I wailed. “I’ll do it. Just let me see the sky again. Get me out of here, Niralahoth.” Everything went deathly silent all around me, then a laugh rang out like the grinding of glass.
In front of me, I saw a tornado of fire descending from the ceiling, surrounding the massive, spidery form of Niralahoth. It rose its skeletal arms upwards, as if it were Zeus calling down lightning. In the sudden brightness, I saw the fiery form of snakes slithering and centipedes skittering forwards in that tornado, each massive creature sculpted from flames in the spinning cyclone of energy. Niralahoth reached into the tornado of fire with its sharp points of fingers and plucked something small from it. The fire instantly dissipated. In its hand, I saw a tiny, swirling orb that looked like it contained a firestorm within it.
“The nightmare seed,” Niralahoth gurgled as it skittered forward towards me. I could only stare, open-mouthed and starving. I hadn’t slept for days, it felt like, and everything seemed slow and unreal.
In a blur, its skeletal arm shot out and forced the orb into my mouth. Despite the fire raging within it, it felt freezing cold. As it touched my tongue, it gave off a sensation like frostbite all throughout my mouth. I screamed and tried spitting it out, but it seemed to have a mind of its own. It started liquifying, dripping down my throat.
I felt something cancerous and sick spreading throughout my body, radiating out from my heart and stomach to every inch of it. I tried to scream, but it caught behind my teeth. I fell to my knees, clawing at my face as that insane, alien laugh continued resounding all down the tunnel. I fell unconscious and woke up under a beautiful sky in the fields of Graysole Farms.
***
Soon after, I realized that my life would never be the same. Everywhere I went, I could hear the wailing voice of Niralahoth. Behind the trees, I always saw skittering shadows, creatures with long, spidery legs that stalked me every day and night. I slept with every light in the house turned on, yet when I woke up, they would all be shut off, and I would find myself in darkness, next to something in the bed with far too many legs and a face that dripped like burning wax.
I sold everything I owned and tried to move far away, to give as much distance between myself and those cursed caverns as I could, but the nightmares followed me like a shadow. I realize what a fool I was in those ephemeral moments of madness. Sonia was much wiser than myself; I should have killed myself or died rather than allowing that thing inside of me.
Even now, I can feel it creeping through my heart, spreading through my blood. I feel it trying to crawl its way out of my throat, the thin, black legs peeking out at the back of my esophagus.
I only hope that, when I finally jump and feel my bones shatter against the concrete far below, I will kill whatever is inside of me. For I fear the consequences for the world if it were to escape.

I had chronic sinusitis for 2 years after a complication from wisdom teeth removal. symptoms were always pretty mild but CT scans showed my entire right sinus was full of goo. the doc did FESS on my right maxillary sinus to drain the infection and trimmed down some tissue to help with future drainage. a pretty limited procedure compared to many, but here’s my first week of recovery for anyone going through something similar!
day of surgery
• I made sure I went with an ENT/hospital I liked/trusted. originally had my procedure scheduled somewhere else but decided to switch last minute— very glad I did
• they had me show up 2hrs before the procedure and took me to my pre-op room. I got into a gown, socks, and hair net. they took some urine, got me on the IV, took vitals. my BP was a little high (probably from anxiety) but didn’t cause alarm. closer to the surgery time I asked them to put some drugs in my IV to help with that
• before surgery, I got to speak with a nurse, the anesthesiologist, and my ENT/surgeon. they asked me some questions and answered any questions I had. anesthesiologist looked into my throat to make sure he had a clear path for the breathing tube. (this was my first time having one of those so I was a lil nervous. all good— in and out while I was asleep)
• when it was time for surgery nurses came and wheeled my bed into the op room. they got me laid out flat. I was still conscious at this time so I had small talk with my doc and the team for a little. somewhere in the middle of that I was out— no breathing mask, no countdown, the IV took me out before i noticed.
• suddenly regained consciousness in what I think was the same room. it felt like coming back from a nap so naturally I kept my eyes closed at first. then someone asked me if I was ready to go and I said yeah, so they wheeled me to my post-op room. that’s where they brought my mom back to meet me (she had been with me in the pre-op room). they gave me a Sprite and some crackers to check for nausea.
• another nurse came in to give me a pain pill (hydrocodone) and my post-op packet. he took my IV out and told me I could get dressed. after I was dressed they sent a wheelchair for me and another nurse wheeled me out to my mom’s car.
• had some moderate pain for the first couple hours, but I took 800mg ibuprofen when I got home and I basically had no pain after that. a steady little nosebleed until I went to bed. some slight rasp/throat clearing from the breathing tube but overall not much soreness.
• took a hydro before bed and also 4hrs later when I woke up in the middle of the night. slept with my head elevated just as a precaution— I didn’t have that much pressure. had pretty broken sleep, inside of my nose became dry/painful from all the dried blood and being advised not to stick anything in there. nothing unbearable tho. put a hot compress on my nose for a few minutes and that helped enough to get me back to sleep
day 1
• no real pain or pressure in the AM. some mild discomfort from the dried blood at first. nosebleed wasn’t as constant and came out clearer. took 800mg ibuprofen when I woke up
• back to eating regular food. I only ate soup, crackers, and pudding post-op the previous day just to re-acclimate my stomach, but had no real food restrictions. just nothing spicy and whatever I felt comfortable eating
• started post-op treatment 24hrs after the procedure. used my steam inhaler as needed and started sinus rinses 2x a day (used Brita water for the inhaler and distilled water for the rinses). doc told me I was allowed to lightly blow my nose after 24hrs. only blew during my sinus rinse
• more congestion on this day, mild headache after sinus rinse. alternated between ibuprofen and Tylenol every 3-4 hrs. hydro before bed
day 2
• woke up with a little more pressure in my face this day. slept through the previous night without much issue
• no more nosebleeds but some blood and mucus while doing sinus rinses. during the rinses I had some yellow mucus and couple blood clots but mostly clear
• more tired on this day, took an afternoon nap. think my body was trying to get back into regular REM cycles
day 3-6
• same routine— pain pills as needed, steam inhale when I felt like it, and sinus rinse a couple times a day
• had some slight congestion and cheek pressure, but nothing all that different than pre-surgery
• sinus rinses were uncomfortable at first but got easier over time. some water would get stuck in my sinuses and come out sometimes hours later
day 7
• had my first post-op appointment/debridement. can’t even lie it was mad uncomfortable but on an actual pain scale probably like a 7/10. lasted only about 3-5 mins total. the camera was sharp, the area was still sensitive, and the suctioning was crazy to hear and feel. I also think the numbing spray gun malfunctioned so it certainly would’ve been easier if I’d been numb, but I did take two Tylenol before the appointment
• I’m doing the rinses for another week and then going for another post-op in 3 weeks
if you read all the way here I hope this helps!

Was trying out a new boulder yesterday and fell off a crimp kinda funny. At the last few seconds it was only my middle finger and pointer finger holding most of my body weight. Immediately after and now the next day my middle finger has been feeling sore like maybe I strained a muscle or tendon in it. The soreness is toward the base of my finger and into my hand a little. Any advice on how/if I should tape it or just leave it alone and try to rest it a few days?
The pain isn’t crazy or anything so I don’t think its a serious injury worth seeing a doctor but I have been climbing for 2+ years now and have never experienced this so am not sure the best way to treat it. Any advice would be appreciated!

Last month we had to delay my 2nd egg retrieval because of a hormone producing cyst. It was about 1.5cm. I went back for baseline yesterday to start the next cycle and now the cyst is 6cm in diameter! The size of an orange! Not producing estrogen anymore, but too big too move forward with ER. The doctor thinks it will “eventually resolve on its own” but I’m scared that if a cyst that size ruptures it could do some serious damage. I asked if we could drain it and he wants to wait at least a month. Should I get a 2nd opinion? Does anyone have experience with this?
The cyst is causing mild symptoms- bloat , constipation, muscle soreness. Annoying, but not interrupting my day to day.

First off, I just want to express how thankful I (32, F, USA) am to everyone who contributes to this subreddit. Reading your stories has helped me immensely in dealing with these issues and made me realize that I am not alone in dealing with this. I’m so happy I can finally say to this group — it gets better.
If you’ve seen any of my previous posts, BFS is/was not my sole diagnosis. I also have a condition called functional neurological disorder (FND) which essentially causes the brain to send incorrect signals to the rest of the body, causing a multitude of symptoms that can be very disabling. After being previously very healthy and fit, my symptoms started with weakness in the legs in early 2023 and progressed to bodywide weakness, widespread near-constant muscle twitching, cramps, and gait issues about six months after. At 9 months, I had a chronic cough, breathing difficulty, no voice, and frequently was choking on food. I was using a combination of a cane and wheelchair to get around because my legs always felt like jello and were hard to move.
After months of medical stress and hospitalizations, being treated for the wrong condition (MG), and being bounced between neurologists, I finally went to the Mayo Clinic in Jacksonville in December 2023, had my third and final EMG, and was given the dual DX, starting my road to recovery.
Since I visited Mayo, I have been doing absolutely everything in my power to manage these issues and not let them stop me from living my life. I still work full-time, take care of my child, and manage to run my household though I’ve had to make a few adjustments and beef up my support system. I also do PT, swimming, and take a multitude of supplements (B12, D, CoQ10, magnesium, lions mane, and GABA). I started taking 40 MG of cymbalta about 2 months ago which has led (in combination) to a huge improvement in symptoms.
I am still dealing with a lot of the same issues but overall I have gotten a great deal better - my voice/breathing/swallowing issues have almost resolved entirely. I'm told there’s no secret standard recipe but for me personally using GABA with SSNRI really helped my get over the initial hump. Once I was able to see that my symptoms were not in fact progressing and that I did not have a deadly incurable disease, things started to improve more quickly. I still use a cane to walk ~50% of the time and a wheelchair in certain situations where I anticipate an issue (i.e grocery stores or airports where there’s a lot of sensory input). When it’s quiet and my mind is at peace, I can even walk for about an hour at a time now (slowly and awkwardly).
Having some perspective now, I absolutely hated it (and still do!) when doctors would say, “it’s just anxiety” or some variation of the phrase. I do not consider myself an anxious person. I do not feel anxious and mentally I appear extremely cool, calm, and collected. It didn’t make sense and I assumed my doctors were just gaslighting me, which is in fact a very common experience for women. BUT — I’ve come to realize this is precisely the issue and it's way more than anxiety. My brain has somehow entered such a profound freeze response that I can barely blush without spiraling into a new physical symptom of maladaptive processing. Even being conscious of this, I can’t control it at all. I've come to realize that I am chronically, deeply, and malignantly overstimulated and stressed from ignoring and suppressing my own physical, emotional, and sensory needs for WAY too long and my entire nervous system is on a hair trigger.
I regret to inform you that I still twitch — it seems nothing can make this stop entirely. I just kind of don’t care as much— it doesn’t really distract me or cause me to worry— it’s just as annoying and weird as it’s always been. I also started having tremors and seizures at night recently which is really scary but benign and related to FND, per neurologist. I plan to start working with a psychiatrist to get a better handle on these issues and making some further lifestyle changes.
Wishing you twitchers all the best in your journey and recovery— I probably won’t post as much here as I’m trying to not over-focus on medical issues but just wanted to drop in and give you an update since many of you have reached out in DMs. Some advice — look for times when your symptoms are better and work with those moments to prove to yourself you can improve and that there is variability. Find a doctor that you trust and that takes you seriously, even if it takes 10 tries.. a lot of them mean well but are also kind of awful at communication. Have testing done if it puts your mind at ease but don't assume it is incorrect when it yields nothing. Stop googling. Take a walk in nature and hug your family.
It will be okay!!!

So, maybe some of people seen me here and around in couple of days, I've been mostly giving advice about how to lose weight. Well why that's important to say cause I myself was around 94.6 kg (208 lbs) when I started at the start of the April, Now I weight 83.8 kg (185 lbs) my goal is to aim for like range of the 60 - 70 kg (132 lbs - 154 lbs) to just purely satisfy myself with the body. I know I shouldn't take in my eyes how the other people look like especially on internet but there's no better alternative atm for me. I already started to see some quirky places where my skin just seems to shrink from the fat that I lost mostly on my tights some people could argue that's bad less tights but at my situation it's better to have lose them a bit of fat.
Also for context I'm just 18 turning 19 this year. 177 cm height (~5'10 ft)
So for more interesting stuff what I'd daily from my start with is now around 1.5 months.
Rule 1; Hitting 5 days from week at least 9.0 km of walking with is around 12,000 steps from just this I don't count moving around house for this, but only the one session of going usually for 2 hour walk at least this is how much average I'd have to walk to be around 9,0 km, On the other 2 days I take a bit break from every exercise and I do just 2/3 of regular day with means I'd go for walk but only for like 6 km.
Rule 2 (please don't do that like i'd) I'm just at way to high caloric deficit I mean I'd get like 1,200 + / - 300 kcal per day. Mostly proteins to just keep my muscle mass on my body and kill the fat, but I don't recommend it unless your doctor says you to have that. Is this going trough hell for me? I can't really tell It's kinda like fasting but not really, I already earlier in my life was prepared to have that situation cuase in my house very very rarely there's lack of food or just food that I won't eat cause is too gross for me to put it in my mouth anyways.
What's my costs of this all, I have to refuse some good stuff like cakes, some other sugar staff, etc. After that time I pretty much don't have any feeling of having to eat or use sugar stuff, so I just drink water and cup of drink tea daily.
The pain in the ass; I'm just still a student and my money outcome is pretty not existing so I have to rely what I get in my kitchen from parents and that's usually not the best staff but at least it's not heavy processed meals like average US dinner. Well at least when I get some money the chicken breast aren't that expensive to get + full-wheat penne pasta + tomato sauce makes me dinner for a week to eat, so I still somewhat stay alive, I did started to appreciate more the meal that I get, and stopped pretty much every time my heads tells me "You are Hungry" I just go and drink water and then this annoying stuff stops for another 6 hours.
Yes I'd have skincare routine mostly just cleanser -> oat lotion -> moisturizer and if I'm going outside in summer time I use uv cream, and yes most of this stuff I just took from my other cause women cosmetics are somewhat always better than mens.
So what other exercises I'd daily; Well I usually got for 3 x 20, So I'd sit ups, squats, glute bridges, russian twists and 1 min of plank, and yes the push ups why do I'd them to help my upper part of body gain some muscles so I get rid of this gross some type of men boobs that I got cause of the fat in my body. Also I'd then set of 2 exercises 3x for 30 s that just helps me with core muscles.
If I get bored from one exercise I'd go and do other with similar meaning like; side leg rises, hydrant etc.
So to summary; Is this what I'd healthy at all, I wouldn't say it's that much healthy and wouldn't recommend going on same caloric deficit as me unless told by doctor, but the other habits like exercises they should be optimal for most of people out here. And general advice for everyone do push ups they don't hurt and not doing like 100 per day but going for like 20 - 40 should be great. I plan myself to reduce amount of them after next month.
If anybody would have any question about other stuff or their personal story to share I'll be open to hear it out when I find a piece of time!
See ya, for the time that I get my silly ass back here.
ps; Stay hydrated cause it's summer duh.

My TBR list is seriously getting out of hand. But I can’t help it and am honestly juggling multiple books at once. I feel like I’m just searching for that perfect book!
But I am currently seeking a former party boy, one night stand haver MMC turned golden boy or on the path to being a golden boy after learning his old ways caused a lot of trouble or pain and just masking whatever he was running from. But his friends, peers want the old him and don’t let him forget who he was. The only person to see him for who he is, is her.
I’d prefer if the book opens with him already deciding to turn over a new leaf but am okay if it happens a little later into the book, just as long as it doesn’t go past the 30-50% mark. I want to see him grappling with who he was and who he wants to be and who everyone wants him to be. Even struggling with falling back into old habits but she brings him back.

1. •would like if it’s enemies to lovers and FMC knows his reputation and doesn’t like him for those reasons and he tries to show her he’s not that guy.
2. •bonus points if MMC is not a doucebag. I prefer my FMC to be the ice queens (this isn’t a must just a preference)
3. •M/F
4. •slow burn
5. •good banter //witty and sarcastic
6. •dual pov first person (dual is a must, I prefer first person but if done well I can be persuaded to read third)
7. •sports romance
8. •a good romance. Not those books where lust is confused for love or the whole book was the MMC pinning to sleep with FMC and then boom oh yeah I love her!

So I’m starting a clothing brand and I’m gonna cater to different trades construction, nursing police firefighter, etc. I’m gonna choose construction for example cause I’ve been in the trade for 18 years , I’ve come to realize over the years that people are very passionate about their trades .So my idea is to come up with funny slogans for each trade so for an example I’m in construction. I’ve seen shirts that said “sawdust is man glitter”. My girlfriend is a nurse in urology and she has a pin that says” urine good hands” as another example, basically what I’m asking for you folks if you’re in any of these trades, if you could shoot me some of your ideas of any, funny slogans that you’ve come across along the years . ~Ps . What are your thoughts on this concept as well ?

So for the past few days, I’ve noticed my finger tips have consistently been tingling! It’s the pins and needles feeling. I have graves. Should be close to remission if not already and I also have suffered from anemia.

Whats up my dudes, we are back at it with another chapter for you all. We are getting the swing of things and have another chapter or two to start the main plot fully, we are just getting to know our leads for now. I hope you enjoy
Lets get this bread
-----
The movement from the nightclub to Stitch’s clinic was grueling. Typically lugging a passed-out HVI or some other sod halfway across the city's district would not be a challenge. With his cybernetics, Conor was in decent enough shape and could sprint ten kilometers in full battle rattle without breaking a sweat, but Conor had pushed himself and didn’t need to wax a few Voodal in his way.
Conor had heard that Kurlatra were dense, but his assumptions about how heavy they were came nowhere close to the reality of picking one up.
Whatever this woman's name was, she likely weighed north of eighty kilograms. It was a shock because she was a meter and a half tall at most. For Urka’s sake, Conor only weighed one hundred and fifty kilograms despite being two meters tall and filled to the brim with wires.
He thought a bit about the woman's build and realized why she must weigh so much. She had hips and legs that could crush a man's skull. Along with a pair of tits just big enough that they would overflow from your hands.
Conner was made all the more well aware of those traits as he adjusted her to ensure he would not drop the little lass. Her fatty chest and plump thighs would try to swallow his hip each time he did. No sentient this small had any right being heavier than his entire breacher kit, explosives, anti-rifle armor, and all.
If not for Brakul expecting this rosey scag to be delivered to Stitch’s place, Conor would have lugged her to his safe house, which was far closer. But no, he had another job and order to follow.
The only shining light on this impromptu extraction was that the Voodal did not follow him. He had been worried about that last ganger he had shot; they had only eaten one round through the midchest. At the time, it looked like it might not have been a heart shot, and since he was picking this bimbo up at the time, he did not have a chance to ensure they were put down permanently.
Conor took a deep breath as he rounded the corner into a dirty alleyway, leaving the bustling thoroughfare behind. Thankfully, the residents of Heavalun knew better than to mess with him or anyone else who regularly did mercenary work, especially when they were carrying a body—alive or not.
Those who stopped his type tended not to live long, so he was ignored other than a few passing glances.
After traveling a few meters into the alleyway, Conor stopped and tucked behind a dumpster. His feet squelched in a puddle of rank trash water leaking from the impromptu cover. While Conor was reasonably sure no one had followed him, a quick double-check was always good for his skin.
Conor did not want to bring trouble to Stitch’s place. He did not have the slightest idea where he would find another techy who could synthesize the cocktail of stimulants Stitch made to keep his broken body held together. Pissing the tech head off was not high on his priority list.
Over the next ten minutes, the only thing his thermal vision picked up between him and the main road was a few Zlit rats scurrying atop discarded food. Their fleshy tendrils groped the garbage and pulled it into maws of razor-sharp teeth.
The sight of them sent a shiver down his spine. Those foul little mammals were high on his list of hated creatures, having been bitten by them more than once since he was a kid slinking around the gutters of Heavalun.
Pushing those memories away, Conor traveled deeper and rounded a blind corner. The sounds of the crowd's chatter entirely vanished as he entered the backstreet where Stitch’s clinic was nestled.
The rest of the journey was only a few hundred meters and only required Conor to sidestep some used needles and shit; He also had to kick one homeless bum who tried to grab the girl out of the cover of his jacket. Usually, he would have just shot the piece of hreck shit, but with his hands full, a swift boot to the jaw got the message across.
With the bum limping away, broken jaw clutched in pain, Conor hammered on the metal door; its frame and the neon sign to its side quivered under his brute strength. Then began the worst part of dealing with Stitch, waiting for the asshole to open the door.
Conor waited until ten minutes had passed and received no answer. Then he punched the door harder, his metal hand denting the surface. Several seconds later, a heavily synthesized voice echoed out of the speakers hidden around the area—speakers that Conor had never been able to locate, no matter how fervently he tried.
“What do you want, Conor?” Stitch questioned. “Did you break more of your wiring?”
Conor sighed heavily, knowing Stitch had this entire block wired with multispectrum cameras and could see him a kilometer out. If this were a visit for his wiring, Stitch would know. The man was just being paranoid and wanted Conor to state his business.
“I got a girl I need you to check up on,” Conor said, pushing his jacket slightly open and letting the girl's ref scales shine.
“What another hooker pass out on a bad trip?” Stitch chuckled cruelly. “This is the fourth this month; you are getting soft merc.”
Rolling his eyes, Conor could admit he was softer than most of the other mercenaries and gangsters in the city's neutral sections. Having seen his fair share of how bad this city can be, Conor did his best not to fuck over those who were just down on bad times and were not trying to cause him issues.
Life was arduous enough for them. So he gave back by lugging hookers and junkies to the nearest tech head and paying for their treatment or the closest Zential clinic. The Zentials were more than willing to treat the downtrodden for free, unlike the other medical services in Heavalun—stitch included.
He considered it his way of giving back and maybe finding Urka's good grace. Perhaps the god might forgive him for being a general piece of hreck shit if he continued to until he did. But he would not know until he finally kicked the bucket.
His intervention was a drop of clean water in the ocean of venom in this city. The other locals were more than willing to pick those he aided clean in minutes. They might as well be a swarm of bealit beatles eating carrion with how ravenous they were.
“It ain’t that. Just open the damn door,” Conor growled, punching the door again.
“Hold on, you greased-up cyborg,” Stitch frantically complained, worried that Conor would break his door again.
Conor smirked, glad the strange form of tolerance he and Stitch had built over the years was still strong. At this point, it was their modus operandi. Neither hated the other; no, they respected one another's role in this shithole.
Both toles put them in harm's way and brought them respect and infamy.
However, Conor found the way the denizens of Heavalun treated them funny. If you asked the average COS or GU citizen, who was more brutal: a mercenary with a pension for hyper-violence and little regard for collateral damage—-or a skeletal Itelv doctor who regularly performs life-saving surgery? They would choose Conor ten out of ten times. They did not know Stitch like Conor, Brakul, or most of the people in this city section.
They would tell you the truth of the good doctor.
They would weave you a tale of a greedy, crit-pinching asshole and that Stitch was the type of man who would stitch up for pay but would just as quickly harvest your organs for sale, or Urka forbid he would stick some experimental tech inside you and wait for your inevitable death to retrieve his property.
The door at long last opened with a vile hiss, and a gangly grey-skinned hand forced it open.
Stitch was just about as tall as Conor. But his thin grey limbs made him look one stiff breeze away from taking flight, with only his heavy artificial spider-like legs keeping him firmly on the planet.
Draped over his pencil-thin neck was a once-white apron. After years of use, it was stained with blood, oil, and hydraulic fluid.
“If she ain't one of your precious hookers, put her on the table. I will get my tool ready,” Stitch hissed, jamming his thumb over a shoulder.
“I ain’t selling this one to you either. Girlie got tagged by visage, and I need yah to treat her,” Conor replied, pushing past and laying the blonde on the recovery bed.
“You said she ain’t some hooker,” Stitch complained following, having gotten tired of Conor no longer bringing him fresh meat to sell.
Once Conor turned around and was about to explain the situation, Stitch pressed a bony finger into Conor's chest. “I told you, I'm selling the next one. She is it,”
“Can it doc. She is a client,” Conor replied. “Or are you going to explain to Brakul why you cut her up?”
Stitch clicked his tongue but did not try to move closer. His glassy, verdant eyes pulled Conor and the girl apart as he weighed the pros and cons of allying with Conor and Brakul another time.
“What is in it for me?” Stitch questioned, tapping a finger on a scalpel attached to his tool belt.
Conor sighed, realizing he should have expected this question, but he was not the broker of deals. That was Brakul’s schtick, and he was running late.
“You can take her jewelry and any credsticks you find on her. Alright?” Conor replied, knowing Brakul likely would have made a similar deal.
Stitch nodded and slinked closer to the woman. He lifted the necklace from her chest and carefully examined the jewels with a prudish eye any good businessman should have. After Stitch activated his magnified eyes, his cornea glowed gold, letting him see the atoms of the shiny trinket.
The doctor grinned cruelly, letting his crystalline teeth show proudly. The sight was unsettling and made Conor grip his pistol, fearing the doctor would flip his shit and decide it was not enough payment and try to cut the girl up.
But he did not start to slice her skin open. Instead, he sniggered nearly uncontrollably for a few moments, then spoke. “Yes, yes, yes. This will do just fine,” He sneered.
Conor was unsure what the jewels were, but they must be worth far more than he initially thought. For Urka's sake, Stitch was drooling on the necklace and the passed-out girl's chest.
“Good. So you will take care of her?” Conor questioned, needing to hear an assured answer.
Quickly slipping the jewelry into his pocket, Stitch looked back at Conor, his demeanor having done a complete one-eighty. “Of course, I always have room for paying customers.”
“Oh sweet, Conor, you handled the deal,” Brakul said, having just stepped in through the doors.
Why Brakul was allowed unfettered access to Stitch’s clinic and Conor was not something Conor had wondered for years but had accepted it as something to do with their role in the duo.
“Yeah, and he will watch the client. But we had yet to lay out the finer details,” Conor explained.
“Ah, no issue, I can take it from here,” Brakul replied.
-----
so what did you think? a decent chapter or total trash? either way I wanna know. I will see you all in the comments. please don't forget to comment and updoot.
your baker
-Pirate
-----
Prev
Next
Buy My Novels

Hi,
TLDR: Need skincare/makeup product recommendations that work for normal-dry but very much acne-prone skin. I don’t have the money to see a Derm. Please help 🙏🏻
My skin type: I have had acne in my teen years and have scarring and enlarged pores from them. Other than that, I am a PoC who didn’t know the importance of sunscreen until age 20, so obviously as you can guess, I’m starting to see hyperpigmentation around my eyes and mouth now(aged 27).
And now it’s made my life horrible that I am going through acne again. They are not intense or anything like hormonal acne that you get around the jaw, but something like big pimples on only my cheeks every week for one year now. I even started exploring makeup because of them. Simply, I’m desperate to not cause more scarring than what I already have. I am planning to get them lasered or micro-needled later.
After whole one year of struggling with them, and making my diet more cleaner ( I always ate a very healthy diet from childhood) I am now looking for quick fixes/ products.
I believe they are because of stress probably or who knows what, but I also started exercising recently (not overweight but I’m skinny fat probably cause of non existent exercise routine in my life)
My currently used products are:
****Oil cleanser: DHC deep cleansing oil ( I like it, it removes my entire makeup effortlessly)
****Face wash: Cerave Cream to Foam cleanser (in the night; I like it but feels too stripping sometimes, but I rather strip clean and add that moisture back than risk clogging my pores)
and plain wate Cosrx low Ph cleanser (in the mornings; My Holy Grail)
****Toner: Laneige Cream skin (Holy Grail)
****Serums/Actives:
Cocokind’s serum barrier serum (1-2x a week)
Estee Lauder Advanced Night Repair (2-3x a week)
Paula’s choice 2% BHA ( once a week)
Differin adapalene gel 1% (once a week; started recently..scared should I keep using it? Will it make my skin paper thin and hence more prone to acne?)
Topicals Faded serum (once a week)
Used to use Ordinary’s Niacinamide 10% + Zinc 1% (stopped as stinging sensation and no change in pores)
Used to use LRP Hyalu B5 serum (was good; but don’t know if it worked deep through the skin, just felt like aloe Vera gel; so haven’t purchased yet)
****Eye cream: Olehenriksen banana bright eye cream (saw results on my stubborn dark circles)
Used ROC retinol correxion eye cream in the past and believe it caused/ made my Milia worse!
****Moisturizer: currently exploring with my changed skin needs now
Using LRP Toleriane double repair matte moisturizer on most nights on Doctorly’s Muneeb shah’s recommendation on YouTube. But I think it’s not moisturizing my skin enough and my smile lines are parched af in the morning. Also it pills, so thinking it’s not helping much.
On days that I use Estée Lauder’s ANR, I pair it with their revitalizing supreme+ Night Creme. ( it’s thick and I like it; though I avoid using fragrance products)
I have used a ceramides based creamy moisturizer for dry-very dry skin in the past year and which I believe is the culprit for my sudden acne!! 😭😭 I didn’t have acne for years and the Summer Friday’s jet lag mask removed my conception of using only gel moisturizers for acne-prone skin, so I didn’t check the label for non-comedogenic and used this moisturizer and ruined my skin!
Used Belif aqua bomb before and think my skin needs more.
Used Neutrogena hydro boost for the longest time until it started causing me burning sensation 2 years ago.
****Masks: Summer Fridays Jet lag mask is holy grail but I stopped as couldn’t bear it in humid Florida weather. (But thinking to go back to it now as it’s non-comedogenic and deeply moisturizing)
So, replaced that with Laneige water sleeping mask, honestly this worked years ago but I don’t see that drastic difference now in the mornings. (Use every once a week or something)
Caudalie Vinergetic C+ instant detox mask (Use every once a week or something)
Peter Thomas Roth pumpkin enzyme mask (irregular due to its burning sensation; honestly didn’t see that much of a difference in texture)
Used Ordinary’s AHA 30% + BHA 2 % peeling solution and stopped as I feel it tans me.
****Sunscreen: Supergoop unseen currently…thinking to shift to tinted sunscreens as a person of color.
*****AM routine: only Laneige cream skin toner + Supergoop unseen sunscreen (hate feeling heavy than what it already is)
****PM routine: Toner+ serum+ eye cream + moisturizer + mask (occasionally)
****Bottom line: Trust Liah Yoo so much but she’s not putting out product recommendation videos lately and also when she does only products that we get on Asian sites or something like that, and not on Ulta Sephora. I’m lost.

1. Thinking to go back to Summer Friday’s jet lag mask as moisturizer. or please suggest something.
   
2. Thinking to try Krave Beauty’s Oil La La Linoleic acid serum for my acne.
   
3. Try a retinol eye cream for milia ..like beauty of joseon’s ?
   
4. Should I stop using adapalene? Is its side effects worser than the few pimples I’m getting now?
   

Please help 🙏🏻 is it boyfriend air? I’ve started seeing him a year ago and we live together and I haven’t had acne for years when I met him last year! I still always use my products only though! 😭 He’s a very nice person.

i’m 18 female 4”11 150 pounds. i went to er a few weeks ago diagnosed normocytic anemia. they thought i could have kidney disease due to my high chloride and low co2 i’ve also been told potassium is on the higher side. they don’t know what is causing it and tested negative for kidney disease. i have a hemotologist apt in a few weeks but just wondering what this could be. symptoms: mood swings anxiety fatigue muscle aches tiredness. also have been having unknown eczema flare ups on and off for abt two years dk if that is related here are my labs. any advice is appreciated thank you
hemoglobin 9.6 rbc 3.1 chloride 109 potassium 4.8 co2 19 hemotocrit 29%

In the survey we were asked to pick 5 skills ingame we did not like and want to improve. Here are my 5 chooses:

• Agility
• Runecrafting
• Firemaking
• Construction
• Dungeoneering

Reason why i pick those skill because it of two reason they are either boring to train or not that rewarding.
How would you improve these skill?
Agility
How i would like to see agility improve would be:

• Add a new combat training method for agility. Example new creatures that have special animation you interact with were your character will perform an action that strike the monster weak point and you get agility exp.
  
• Add vital point to monster, a random event that appear when your fighting that will cause a random side of the monster to sparkle. If you strike from that side of the monster you deal like 10% increase damage and regain adrenaline or some other buff.
  
• Buff exp rate on agility course by 25%. This way if the combat training method is introduce player can decide if they want fast exp with no reward aka the agility course or slow exp with rewards the agility combat method.
  

Runecrafting
I would like to see runecrafting improve in the following way a new training method.

• New training method could be called mystic weaving where we make magical armour and weapon that we can imbue. This would also mean taking away magic armour from the crafting skill and putting them in the runecrafting skill.

Firemaking
The only thing i would improve on firemaking is just add more useful rewards because the exp rate is already fast but the rewards are lack luster. Some reward ideas

• Explosive
• New range weapon that require gun powder like pirate pistols

Construction
Improving construction would need a skill rework and new rewards. The rewards are going to be the major issue in construction because it need to be really useful. Ideas for rewards for construction:

• Grand teleportation Nexus: This will let you teleport to pin point location.
  
• Grand agility course: Make your own agility course.
  
• Boss Chamber: Make your own boss by fusing boss monster together.
  

Dungeoneering
The main training method needs to be improve and more rewards need to be added.

I had my circumcision on the 11th of may (due to phimosis). All seems to be healing well. However, today I woke up with a strange sensation on the top of my glans. It feels like my penis is vibrating/tingling. It's not like pins and needles. My penis isn't sensitive and my glan doesn't hurt. It's just constantly tingles/feels like a light vibration.
Has anyone else experienced this?

I (20M, 5'5", 122 lbs) had 16g of MuscleBlaze's Raw Whey Protein before sleep and woke up with a mild sore throat the next morning. I didn't think much of it and continued to take 5g of creatine monohydrate. Nothing happened immediately, so I took another dose of 5g after 4 hours.
After a few hours, I felt fullness or pressure in my ears and a scratchy, sore feeling at the back of my throat. It was mild. When I slept that night, I experienced headaches, body weakness, and fluctuating sensations of cold and heat. When I woke up, I felt fine except for a mild throat pain. I proceeded to take another 5g of creatine.
Later that day, I started having mild pain in my throat again when swallowing. I also felt pain when I touched the right side of my neck area under my ear.
Context: When I eat anything that has butter, ghee, mayonnaise, or certain oils like palm oil, I sneeze 10-12 times almost continuously the next day. This has been happening for the past 4 years. Sometimes, this also happens with bananas.

• Can Whey protein & Creatine cause these allergic reaction or is this a viral infection?
• Should I stop taking these supplements immediately or should I wait until I recover with the sore throat fully and try again?
• How can I cope with these allergic reactions?
• Are there any alternatives to these supplements?