#maybe some water for my dehydrated body… but that’s not AS important

[justmwahstruly]

i come bearing fanart!

Writer is so pretty and cool-looking, I love her…

and the wondrous Writer belongs to @sallystarletsimp ! Go check them out!

[strawberry-daiquiris]

i just need you to know that all of these ~water adventure oscar~ photos have me thirsting for a salt skin part 2. maybe he and lando decide to take to the sea ? i don’t know. i’m just spit balling. and this is ZERO pressure! i just wanted you to know im thinking of you and your boys! (plus my fave photo from the set!!)

this photo was intense immediate salt skin vibes for me! the concerned look on his face, the clutching hand on the towel, the person captivating him off camera.

i haven't done much meta around them because that fic still feels a bit sacred - i wrote it all in one sitting, more or less, and felt a bit like i'd been drowned in the ocean/dehydrated on a rock when i finally stood up off the sofa.

i've always thought that afterwards, lando would become oscar's very curious, slightly violent wag, flitting all ethereal around the paddock charming people then threatening to rip their throats out if they so much as hinted a threat at oscar. everyone would know there was something weird about him, they could just never really guess what. except for maybe zak brown lol still don't ask me what i was getting at with that weird hint of a side plot.

anyway here's a little 900 word snapshot of their morning before this picture would have been taken in the saltskin universe!

tw for them being bloodthirsty sirens and also displaying slightly coercive behaviour!!!

_________________________

“Are you going to put SPF on?”

Oscar hangs back against the bathroom door, rubbing a stubborn patch of lotion into the dry skin at the side of his nose. On the floor, Lando is rooting under the bed for something, his naked arse pointing Oscar’s direction. It still gets him, even now, how weirdly Lando moves his human body, whipping around slightly too fast, fixing Oscar with a stare that’s a little ethereal. 

“I’m a merman, Oscar. I don’t need frickin’ SPF.”

”Were.” Oscar emphasises with his hands, chucking the tube onto the floor next to Lando. He flinches from it like Oscar’s thrown a grenade, or a fishing line. “You were a merman, and now you’re not, so…”

He points out the window to the baking hot sun. It’s a free weekend in Monaco, time to take the boat out into the furthest reaches of the bay so Lando can dive under the water for longer than it should be possible to hold his breath. 

“SPF.”

Lando grimaces, poking at the tube with his foot, trying to roll it under the bed to its final resting place next to whatever he’d been looking for. He treats the underneath of the bed like a cave, hoarding things there. It’s fine, and Oscar doesn’t mind, until it’s something important, like his passport, or the car keys. 

”Lando, don’t make me do it.”

Oscar turns back to the bathroom mirror, sighing when he realises he’s still got a glob of white on his nose. He pauses, listening for the squelch of cream on soft skin, but it doesn’t come.

”Lando,” he starts, and he hears a groan as his voice curls out of the bathroom, tantalisingly soft as it creeps away from him. Oscar has learnt how to control it, how to target the power towards a person, or an object. It’s not the only reason there’s trophies on his shelves and a different coloured team wear in his wardrobe, but it’s one of the biggest. “Put on the sunscreen.”

He hears the cap pop, the heavy weight of Lando’s footsteps as he comes closer, standing naked in the doorway squirting it on his chest. It’d be hot, if it weren’t for the scowl.

”I hate you,” Lando spits, tongue more pointed than usual, the tops of his ears going red like they want to spike, fighting the siren rage.

Maybe it’s hot because of the scowl.

Oscar only smiles, wrapping an arm around his stomach and holding him against the door frame, fingers working some of the cream into the scarred skin that used to be gills, shiny silvery purple like stretch marks. When he comes to a stop, he looks at his hand, pale against the tan of Lando’s skin. Ever since he came out of the ocean, he’s had webbing at the base of his fingers. Not enough to be noticeable unless you really look. Take it in alongside his slightly lighter eyes, and his sharper fingernails. Surface changes to the eye, but rooted far deeper than that, somewhere in Oscar’s DNA.

”No, you don’t,” Oscar whispers, and he doesn’t need to use his powers for this, needs nothing more than the press of his lips against the side of Lando’s face, where he’s finally starting to grow something that looks like facial hair. “You love me.”

Lando squirms, but Oscar has the upper hand. More strength in his thighs, more defined muscles in his chest. He’s not fighting a monster now. He is one.

”Don’t.”

Oscar smiles, twisting Lando so their faces are pressed so close he can smell the salt on Lando’s breath. Strong like he’s been swilling sea water, even after he’s brushed his teeth.

”You do, you love me,” Oscar insists, and Lando shakes his head. Oscar rests his fingers along Lando’s scars again, scraping the pointy bits of his nails along the soft, new skin until Lando shivers, whimpering, pleading. Tame. “You wished for me.”

Lando grabs Oscar’s arm, wraps his strong, long fingers around his wrist and tugs, heaving breaths like he’s just gulped down a lungful of water. 

“You did,” Oscar insists, the hand Lando didn’t grab scratching deeper, until the scars start to pinken. It turns Lando on, every time, still sensitive with an erogenous zone unique only to him. “Say it.”

”I wished for you,” Lando blurts, and Oscar lets go, stepping back out of his space triumphantly. Still, Lando reaches for him, sliding his hands under Oscar’s t-shirt, feeling the muscles, pulling him close. His voice is softer, when he speaks again, more like the boy who dazzled him in the water, tempted him close to death. “You know I wished for you.”

Oscar kisses Lando’s forehead, holds him as he rests against his chest, so much skin on display, so much vulnerability. He can tell the moment it takes them both, remembering how lonely they were, how much they loathed the absence of this, even when they didn’t know what this was. 

“I know,” Oscar whispers, letting his hand fall to the curve of Lando’s waist, and the small ridge where his tail used to start, the one you can feel if you know where to touch. Eczema, Oscar has taught Lando to claim, if anyone asks why his skin looks like the surface of a rock, weathered by a storm. “I know.”

They stay that way until the SPF starts to dry, tacky, on Lando’s skin and Oscar has to push him away before they’re bound by more than just the sea.

”Put some clothes on, Lando,” Oscar says, brushing past him to leave for the kitchen, pack a cool box with raw meat they don’t eat anywhere but home, the boat and any restaurant with carpaccio on the menu. “The boat’s not going to sail itself.”

[strongheartneteyam]

[ IMPORTANT: the picture in the middle is a fungi that produces a liquid that ONLY SEEMS like blood. It's NOT real blood.]

It bleeds and it burns.

Neteyam Sully x female!omatikaya!reader

Author's note: Neteyam is in his twenties and he's now the Olo'eyktan of the Omatikaya clan.

CW: established relationship, so angsty, broken hearted reader, jealous reader, insecure reader, mentions of sex, emotionally hurt neteyam, intense feelings, hurt/comfort, crying, forgiveness, heart wrenching but beautiful

Not proofread. Also, I don't really know what kind of fanfiction this is, maybe a short story ??? no idea. just felt like writing it. hope u guys like it ♡

( :̲̅:̲̅:[̲̅:★:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

And so it seems I broke your heart

My ignorance has struck again

I failed to see it from the start and tore you open 'til the end

And I'm sorry to my unknown lover

Sorry that I can't believe that anybody ever really starts to fall in love with me

Sorry (Halsey)

( :̲̅:̲̅:[̲̅:★:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

Neteyam would always take your hand and smile at you so sincerely. You could tell how much he loved you only by the way his lips curled up and his mouth opened up wide, his fangs protruding.

You knew how strong he was, how powerful he was as the Olo'eyktan of the Omatikaya clan. Your mate was a fearless, brave warrior, a skilled hunter, a beyond great archer.

But you also knew he would never hurt you. He would never dare to use his physical strength or high intelligence to bruise or betray you, in any way. Not if he could help it. Never on purpose.

Neteyam had the softest spot for you ever. He was always there to help you, to keep you safe. He'd spend longer than usual out in the forest only to hunt your favorite kind of meat, gather your favorite fruits, bring you enough water for you to never be dehydrated.

You were a jealous kind of girl. Whenever you saw another female na'vi, a stranger, who wasn't a family member or an old friend of his, gazing at him for way too long, you'd become territorial. You'd sit on his lap when everyone would gather to eat together around the scorching bonfire, just so all the other Omatikaya girls knew Neteyam was yours. That you two had made tsaheylu, that it was useless to try.

Meanwhile, Neteyam only had eyes for you but you couldn't realize that. Even though everytime you two made love, especially when he was going through his rut, he would worship your body just like you were a goddess, like you were Eywa herself. So, you ended up hurting him when trying to keep him closer. You ended up making him bleed instead of nursing his wounds. You would have anger outbursts, fighting with Neteyam and showing too much jealousy unbelievably often.

One night, you were crazily mad at him. He was late. Where the hell could he be? What company was he keeping?

When Neteyam finally came home, only a little later than the usual, you started to ask him a handful of cutting questions. You asked him - nervously and in attack mode - where he was, if someone was with him, why was he so damn late. You told him you were not a fool and if he ever cheated on you, you'd never forgive him.

"I was just looking for this." He handed you a small basket full of bittersweet little berries. "I know they are your favorite. Wanted to bring you some but finding them took longer than I expected. There was a nantang in the way." (viperwolf) "I had to make him go away without hurting him too much. It was hard..." He sighed, tired "Sorry for coming home late." Neteyam was so calm, his altruism ruled over his instinct to defend himself.

You were left speechless, full of regret, feeling sorry for... everything. You had to change. You had to be a better mate for your Neteyam. He deserved the world and took so many responsibilities for himself. It had been so since he was a young na'vi boy. He surely felt overwhelmed. Who was going to always be there for him if not his mate, the one he was bonded to forevermore?

"You know," Neteyam's eyes stared deep inside yours. His feline like ears were pointing down, betraying his pain "not everything is what it seems."

You were frozen in your place, looking down at the floor, not able to look him in the eye. Your thoughts started to spiral, telling you that you were not good enough to be his mate and you always mess everything up in the end. Some seconds passed while you listened to that wicked voice in your head, while you let your insecurities deceive you, pretending to want to help you, when in the end, their true intention was to drag you down, make you act in stupidity.

When you looked up again, he was already gone. You walked towards the door, despair hitting you hard, stealing the air that should be going inside your lungs and out. Your eyes rapidly caught Neteyam's silhouette walking fast towards the open forest. He would always go there to unwind a bit, to organize his thoughts when everything felt like too much.

You could only hope and pray to the Great Mother that when he came back, he would forgive you for how you had been acting lately, for not trusting him, for being paranoid. You hoped he would give you a second chance to make it right. You tried to calm down, to breathe. You waited for him.

After walking for some time, Neteyam was now sitting on a tree branch. That same tree stood really tall. It was the perfect place to hide and not be bothered.

Hot tears silently rolled down his face. He was the Olo'eyktan, he could not let anyone see him cry in the middle of the forest, late at night, so he camouflaged, up high in that huge tree.

Neteyam's strong heart now felt fragile. He felt weak. Almost nobody could break him. He learned to be the toughest he could be just so he could take the heavy position of Olo'eyktan, leading his clan. Many envied him, but, what they didn't realize was that the "crown" he wore weighed more than it shone.

He loved to be the leader of his people but that didn't mean it was not hard to try and not crumble, even on the face of such complicated matters he had to solve, even facing life threatening danger really often, to be the Omatikaya people protector, ready to fight and give his life up to keep everyone safe and sound.

He didn't have the luxury to put himself in first place.

But he was thankful for his mate. His safe haven used to be you. But you became darker with time, harder to deal with. He missed who you were in the beginning. That fresh, bubbly, sweet girl he fell in love with. All he wanted was her back in his arms. Sometimes, he did not recognize you anymore.

Neteyam started to hear intense, irregular sounds of brittle leaves breaking. Someone was running through the forest he was in, getting closer and closer to where he was. He was in a full vigilance state now. But it soon changed.

It was you. You were now standing next to the tree he was sitting on. He looked down at your slender body that, from so afar, looked utterly small.

"Neteyam!" You shouted, looking up at your mate. The frail eclipse light that came through the leaves made his bioluminescent freckles shine so bright, just like many tiny fireflies settled on his dark blue, perfect skin. "I'm so sorry! Please! Can we talk?!" You looked at him, pleading

Neteyam immediately gave in. Of course he wanted to talk to you. To hear you say "forgive me". To accept you back inside his arms. He loved you ardently. All he wanted and needed was you.

He signaled he was going to get off the tree, and, so did he.

When he got to the floor, you ran to him like he was air and you were almost drowning.

"I'm so, so, so sorry, my yawne!" (beloved)

"Shhhh... it's okay." Neteyam cooed, trying to comfort you. He held you tight in his arms, your skin glued to his warm, comfortable body. "We'll make it through. I love you, yawntu." (loved one) "Forever."

Your mate took your face on his big hands and, seeing you were crying, inconsolable, he just crushed his lips on yours and kissed your pain and angst away.

"Oel ngati kameie." (I see you) "I never stopped seeing who you truly are. On our darkest moments, I still remembered." Neteyam reassured you, his face serene and full of a burning kind of love, only and exclusively for you.

You understood. You finally understood.

You did not need to be insecure. Nothing could ever tear the both of you apart. Not even death. You could finally rest your head down on your mat and sleep peacefully.

જ★

I'm tagging you @yeosxxx bc u asked to be tagged in all my works and I'm SO sorry for almost forgetting to tag u 🥲 my memory sucks

[bellaxgiornata]

Keep Coming Back to You (Chapter Three)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader travels the multiverse hiding in different worlds from the one who is hunting her because of her ability. Over time, she realizes she keeps getting pulled back to Matt Murdock in his world. See my Chapter List for the full summary and to find each chapter in this series!

Warnings: 18+ for this series; angst, smut, horror, language, violence (possibly more warnings later)

Word Count: 4.7k

a/n: Finally got around to posting chapter three, but I'm still working on chapter four! This one is mostly in Matt's POV so enjoy! And you can find the Chapter List here! (...definitely a paint world reference in here...*cough* Doctor Strange is eventually important *cough*).

Matt was out of his building early the next morning, having given Foggy a line about needing to research something at the library for an assignment. Since it wasn't entirely out of the ordinary for Matt to wake up early on a Sunday morning with class work on his mind, he noticed Foggy didn't even react to the information before he'd left their dorm. Which was fine by him, because he didn't need Foggy to question his motives for what he actually was doing this morning.

Instead of a library visit for research, Matt was wandering Columbia's campus in search of you. His cane was tapping along the sidewalk, Matt’s ears trying to tune out the incessant noise of it as he walked. He was hoping to grab onto some sign of you, something that he could possibly use to track to find you. He would take anything at all, even though he knew this undertaking was a ridiculous one, one that was bound to leave him empty-handed. Still, he felt like he had to try. 

If Foggy said you appeared to be homeless, Matt highly doubted you'd be a student here. He wasn’t stupid enough to think that. But he did hope that maybe he'd be able to grab onto some trace of you and where you'd gone last night when you'd left his dorm. Maybe overhear someone muttering about a homeless girl on campus, or if he was really lucky, maybe he’d catch the sound of your curious, steady heartbeat.

He'd struggled to sleep much at all last night, tossing and turning in his bed. He was internally kicking himself for not finding some way to make you stay for pizza with them at least. Or for not finding an excuse to leave when you had bolted out of their dorm and follow after you–though he'd certainly felt a little uncomfortable acknowledging that thought. He'd told himself it was just because he had questions, because he hoped maybe you were someone who he could relate to–maybe you were someone like him. Different.

And he had oddly found himself worried about you and your safety despite the fact that he barely knew you. He'd found himself wondering if you’d gotten anything to eat last night because he knew how hungry you were just listening to your body. He worried if you'd gotten anything more to drink besides that partially full bottle of water you'd reluctantly accepted from him despite how dehydrated you clearly were. And had you found somewhere to sleep last night? 

After smelling that strong scent of fear on you that he’d noticed when you'd first appeared, he was left with even more questions and concerns for you. What had it meant that you had radiated so much fear? Were you in danger? Had someone been trying to hurt you? Because as rude as you had been, Matt hadn't felt like you were a dangerous threat, just a scared young woman with secrets he found himself wanting to unravel.

It had been quite a while that Matt had been searching the campus in the chilly April morning, desperate for any trace of the direction you'd gone in last night while he’d been lost in his thoughts. Eventually he came to a stop on the sidewalk, realizing just how pointless his searching was. He'd gradually become further disheartened when his senses hadn't picked up on a single sign of you even though he knew that's what the most likely outcome was going to be when he'd started this ridiculous search for you earlier. 

He leant his cane against his body, his right hand reaching over as his fingers slid back his sweatshirt sleeve, feeling along the face of his watch. Releasing a sigh, he realized he had been out walking around campus for forty-five minutes now. He ran a hand across his forehead in frustration as he considered giving up his search for now. There were thousands upon thousands of people in New York City, it was insane to hope he could have picked up on just one of them, especially one he barely knew. 

"Are you–I mean, do you need help?"

Matt straightened at the voice that had come from a little way ahead of him on the sidewalk, his eyes going wide in disbelief behind his dark glasses. He could feel his heart slowly beating faster in his chest.

It was you. You had somehow stumbled upon him. But you smelled different, as if you'd showered judging by the dampness of your hair and the strong scent of soap mixed with something like vanilla. Your clothes smelled freshly laundered but also…strange. As if you'd stolen them from someone else. The corner of his lip twitched upwards–had you stolen someone's clothes and showered in one of the dorm showers? How incredibly bold of you.

That only added to his curiosity.

"Serena?" he asked, hand falling from his forehead as he focused on you a few feet before him on the pavement.

He felt the slight increase in your heart rate–probably from nerves at the blind stranger recognizing you–before you did it again. You quickly slowed the pace of your heart back to that curious, steady beat. But Matt could still feel the nerves on you, taste that bit of adrenaline in the air as it kicked in inside of your body. It was that same feeling of fight or flight you seemed to be in around him and Foggy often last night. If he didn’t want to scare you off, he’d have to be careful with his words. 

"How–how can you tell?" you asked anxiously.

He smiled at you, hoping it was friendly and non-threatening. "Your voice," he answered gently. "I recognize it."

And by the strange, calm beat of your heart, but he definitely wasn't going to tell you that . 

"Oh," you answered awkwardly, shifting on your feet. "I suppose that makes sense.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, Matt could tell by the way the air shifted. You were uncomfortable and guarded, but he expected that. He was trying to think of a way to prolong this moment when you thankfully spoke again.

“Did you…need help?” you repeated awkwardly. 

Testing the waters, Matt’s head tilted a little to the side. “Why, do I look like I need help?” he teased.

You hesitated a moment, shifting your weight from one foot to another again. “I just meant I saw you walking around and I–I wasn’t sure if you’d gotten turned around or something,” you told him.

Something warm filled Matt at the fact that you had noticed him . Long enough to know he’d been aimlessly wandering around campus. How long had you been watching him?

He was tempted to tease you a bit more, try to lighten the mood with a joke about his blindness, oddly desperate to know what your voice would sound like when you smiled. Or when you laughed. But judging by the slight step back you’d just taken, he figured that would probably only push you further away. So instead, he decided to think up a quick plan.

“I did, actually,” he lied, feigning an embarrassed little smile. “Sort of happens sometimes when you can’t see where you’re going.”

“Do you want some help?” you asked.

He smiled wide when you offered him the exact thing he needed. Matt nodded in response, still monitoring how close you were to bolting on him when he spoke.

“Yes, actually, if you don’t mind,” he answered. “I was on my way to grab a coffee. I can’t quite function on my assignments without it, you know.” He chuckled lightly, hoping he sounded casual. “But I think I took a wrong turn.” Which was a blatant lie, he knew exactly how to get to the coffee shop nearby. “You think you could maybe help me to a nearby street? So I could orient myself?”

“Yeah, sure,” you replied.

You took a step towards him and then abruptly stopped. Matt could hear the way you were chewing anxiously on your lip and the way you were rubbing two of your fingernails together, the clicking of them back and forth loud enough to register to his ears. A nervous habit?

“Do you…uhm,” you trailed off for a moment, a brief pause falling between the pair of you. “Do you need to like hold my arm or something?” you blurted a few seconds later. “Sorry, I just, I don’t really know–”

“If you don’t mind,” he answered quickly, hoping to calm you before you changed your mind on him. “It helps. But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

He heard your nails clicking together a little faster for a few seconds before he noticed the way your hand curled into a fist, the clicking coming to a stop. Definitely a nervous habit. He was making you uncomfortable. He’d noticed last night how much your body had tensed when he’d grabbed your shoulder–admittedly not his best moment, grabbing a stranger. He just hadn’t wanted you to disappear.

And he still felt that way.

Matt was about to open his mouth and tell you not to worry about it, but you spoke first.

“It’s–it’s fine,” you told him. “I don’t mind.”

Except you certainly seemed to for some strange reason. But instead of pointing it out, Matt shifted his cane into his left hand, holding out his right hand. There was a long moment before he felt your hand grab onto his, drawing it to your bicep. Your body seemed tense and as he lightly curled his fingers around your arm, he swore he briefly heard your heart stutter. He caught the telltale warmth flooding your cheeks and the obvious scent of your pheromones hovering over the smell of vanilla soap on you. Yes, Matt realized, you were attracted to him. And for some reason that…delighted him.

“The uh, the street is actually back this way,” you said softly, breaking him out of his thoughts. “So we need to turn around.”

Matt let you guide him, turning as you turned and walking when you began to walk. His cane began to tap along the sidewalk ahead of the pair of you as he quickly tried to think up safe topics to keep you talking.

“How’s your arm?” he asked.

He felt the way your shoulder shrugged.

“It’ll heal,” you answered. “Not the worst injury I’ve had.” You cleared your throat awkwardly as you muttered, “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he replied. “Couldn’t just leave you bleeding.”

“Most people would,” you mumbled.

He laughed lightly, nodding his head. “Yes, I suppose you have a point,” he agreed. “But I’m not most people.”

“Clearly not,” you added under your breath.

He knew you’d meant to say that at a volume he couldn’t hear, but of course he had. And it had only caused his smile to grow even wider. You’d muttered that with such a strange inflection that he’d wondered what you’d meant. Though obviously he couldn’t ask you.

Before he could open his mouth to continue making conversation, you’d come to a stop. Matt paused beside you, frowning when he realized you both had already reached the street. He’d been so focused on you he hadn’t been paying attention.

“Looks like one-hundred fifteenth and Riverside Drive?” you told him. 

“Ahh, okay, so it’s just down this way,” he said, gesturing his head to the left. “At the end of this block then.”

“Right,” you responded. “So uh–”

“Can I get you a coffee?” he asked, cutting you off.

He heard the way your mouth opened and closed in what appeared to be surprise. He could almost taste your adrenaline spike at his question.

“I–I told you, I’m not some sort of stray,” you began, stepping back from him.

“No, of course not, that’s not what I meant,” Matt hurried to respond, shaking his head. He fought hard to resist the urge to tighten his hold on your arm so you wouldn’t disappear on him. “What I meant was, would you like to get a coffee with me?”

Matt could tell you’d narrowed your eyes at him in the silence that followed his question. But you’d at least not pulled entirely out of his grip which was a good sign. 

“Why?” you asked cautiously.

He shot you a friendly smile, not lying at all when he replied, “I like being around you. Listening to you speak. And I’d–I’d like to get to know you, if you’d let me.”

“I’m not doing that weird interrogation thing your friend was doing last night,” you said, your tone obviously carrying a bite.

“I was thinking more along the lines of…what’s your go-to coffee?” he asked with a grin.

Matt could feel the tension ease out of your muscles a little. You’d still kept that distance between the pair of you though. 

“I’ve never had coffee,” you admitted.

His brows drew together instantly at your confession. “Ever?” he asked.

“Nope,” you answered.

“What about tea?” he asked next.

“No, haven’t drank tea, either,” you told him.

A frown pulled at his lips; he hadn’t been expecting you to not like coffee or tea. That had certainly caused his plan to backfire.

“Is there somewhere else you’d like to go?” he questioned.

And that’s when he finally heard it–your laugh. It instantly drew a smile onto his face, the sound bright and unexpected. 

“You’re the one who’s out getting coffee so they can focus on their assignments, not me,” you replied. “Go get your coffee.”

“Try some with me?” he almost begged.

You hesitated yet again and Matt was becoming more and more desperate to understand why you seemed so uncertain around him. Why did everything seem to make you hesitate?

“I’ll walk you to your coffee shop, how about that?” you offered.

“Is that the best I’m going to get here?” he asked in return.

“Yes,” you answered simply.

His heart sank a bit at your response. He’d been hoping to chat with you for a while, maybe begin to piece things together. And admittedly, he’d started to really like talking to you. You were a curious puzzle, though he found himself surprised that he was curious to know if you would like coffee. Or what your favorite pizza topping was. 

Or how you’d react if he flirted.

Instead, he nodded. “Lead the way,” he said. “I’ll just have to walk really, really slowly.”

Matt’s ears picked up on the amused huff of laughter you emitted and his own smile reached his eyes. You began walking again, letting him readjust his hold onto your arm as he followed beside you.

“What do you study?” you asked. “At that big university.”

“Law,” Matt answered. “Foggy and I both study law.”

“Ahh, so you’re smart and apparently planning to be rich,” you mused.

He couldn’t resist laughing, shaking his head. “No, actually,” he corrected you. “I’m planning to help out those who can’t afford good legal representation. The poor deserve justice, too.”

He felt the way your head had turned towards him as you walked. You were studying him, maybe surprised at his response. 

“Do you study anything?” Matt asked, his focus ahead of him.

“No,” you answered softly.

He picked up on the tinge of something like regret or sadness in the single word you’d spoken. As if college was something you wanted but couldn’t have. Were you really homeless then?

“So what do you do?” Matt asked carefully. “Or I suppose, what would you like to do?”

He felt the shrug of your shoulders at his question. For the past couple of minutes as the pair of you had been walking he’d noticed that fight or flight response in your body–minus the elevated heart rate that usually came with it–had vanished. You had seemed to relax around him which he’d found a sense of pride in. It seemed as if you didn’t relax easily around others.

“I do whatever I can to get by,” you told him. “And I honestly never had the opportunity to think about what I’d like to do besides that. Probably never will.”

“Why’s that?” Matt asked curiously. “Or is that one of those questions I’m not allowed to ask?”

“You can ask,” you replied. “But I won’t answer.”

“Ahh, a woman of mystery,” he teased.

He grinned again when he felt the heat rush to your cheeks–he’d caused you to flush. He’d certainly liked knowing he had affected you so easily.

“So why won’t you grab coffee with me?” Matt tried one last time. “At least let me repay you for the effort of helping me find my way here.”

You laughed lightly, the sound like music to Matt’s ears. Was he forming a crush on you already? Foggy would certainly have some thoughts on that…

“Then that would defeat the purpose of me paying you back for bandaging my arm,” you replied. “And we would be stuck in a never-ending loop of trying to repay the other back.”

He flashed you a boyish grin when he noticed you had turned to look at him. Your heart beat a little faster, but you didn’t slow it down that time. Why?

“I don’t think I’d mind that at all,” he told you.

He heard the way you turned your head, biting your lip. Your right hand came up, nervously rubbing the back of your neck. As he suspected, his flirting made you a little nervous. But it also seemed like you possibly liked it. 

“I can’t exactly find myself in one of those loops,” you muttered.

“Why not?” he asked curiously.

“I just can’t,” you answered, your tone closing off the topic. “Your coffee shop looks like it's right here, so this is where we part.”

You pulled your arm out of his hold and Matt’s stomach felt like it was beginning to nervously churn inside of him. He needed to find some way to see you again, some way to get ahold of you. He couldn’t just hope to happen upon you yet again stealing someone’s clothes around the residence halls.

“Can I take you out for dinner sometime?” Matt asked quickly. “Or lunch? Or breakfast, even. Whatever you’d like.”

You were hugging your arms over your chest again, distancing yourself from him. Why couldn’t he just make sense of you?

“Are you–I’m sorry, are you trying to ask me on a date?” you asked, utter disbelief apparent in your tone.

“Yes,” Matt answered, nodding. God he just wanted to make sense of you and whatever this desperate need to not have you disappear on him was. “I’d like to take you on a date. If you’d let me?”

“I don’t date,” you stated simply.

His lips parted in surprise. You don’t date? Was that a polite way of saying you weren’t interested?

“I mean, if I did,” you suddenly blurted in a nervous rush, “I would definitely say yes. But I don’t date. And I–I can’t. I’m sorry, you seem nice–like weirdly nice, but I–”

You stopped short, your head turning over your right shoulder. Matt noticed the steadily increasing tick of your heart and that telltale tang of fear radiating off of you. You were scared. Still keeping his focus on you, he turned his senses to the direction you were looking at. As far as he could tell, nothing was happening. There was just the usual morning foot traffic on the sidewalk. 

Matt’s head shifted a little more to the side. There was a strange, almost faint buzzing sound coming from that direction, though. It reminded him of the noise electronic devices gave off, but it wasn’t quite that.

“I have to go,” you finished a few moments later, taking a step back.

“Wait!” he called out, panicked. “Do you have a number? Some way I can reach you again? Anything?”

“No,” you said, beginning to walk backwards from him. “I don’t. But you won’t run into me again anyway, so it won’t matter.”

Confusion raced through Matt at your words. What did any of that mean? And why was the scent of your fear increasing rapidly?

“Good luck on your degree,” you called out.

“Wait!” Matt tried again.

But you’d already turned, darting down two shops and turning down an alley. He stood in front of the coffee shop, torn between chasing after you or not. He could hear the way your heart was speeding up and slowing down repeatedly–it was incredibly abnormal. Matt tried to focus on the sound of your heart, taking a step in your direction. But then he realized that buzzing noise was nearing him. He paused, brows furrowing as he glanced over his shoulder.

It was a person emitting that frequency, he realized. Someone middle-aged it sounded like, judging by their own heartbeat. But that was odd. In all the years Matt had his heightened senses, he’d never known a person to make some sort of frequency pitch like that. Never. And they appeared to be making their way towards you.

He began walking in that direction, unsure of what was happening but eager to help. But then your heartbeat vanished . Just like it had abruptly appeared the other night, it was just gone. He paused again, eyes wide behind his glasses. Had you just…disappeared?

Throwing his senses on the strange individual nearby, he noticed they stopped in the alley entrance. Seconds later, that frequency disappeared. The person's head began darting around in almost confusion, a panic flooding them before they turned and hurried back the same way they’d come, muttering to themselves as they went.

Matt hurried forward himself, rushing towards the alley that you’d just been in. But when he turned and focused on the space before him, all that was left was the faint trace of that vanilla soap and the tang of your fear. He tapped his cane along the ground, focusing on the vibrations. The end of the alley was a brick wall.

You had just disappeared.

“Who are you?” Matt whispered, standing confused in front of the empty alley.

◈𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 ◈

Falling hard on your ass, you landed on a bit of patchy grass, your hands dropping to your sides to steady yourself. Just to make sure you’d jumped where you’d intended, you glanced over your shoulder, sighing in relief when you saw the makeshift little dugout shelter you’d built a while ago. 

It had taken you days to build it on your own, having to rely on your hands and whatever tools you had to dig a hole in the ground that was a few feet deep and a good few feet wide. And then you'd had to chop up logs to stabilize the dirt structure and keep it from caving in on you, especially when it rained. It was a technique for a more permanent shelter that Adam had taught you back on Nightmare 1. And your little survival shelter looked exactly like the last time you’d been here–shoddy but cozy. Home.

This place–this world, really–was your Safe House. You generally came here to shake them from your trail. You had no idea what the hell world or universe this was, but there weren’t many people here. The ones you’d occasionally stumbled on stayed close to their own village, content to leave you be if you left them be. Which made it easy to hide out here, because they couldn’t easily have eyes on you. 

A few years back you’d found this universe and one similar to your real Home that you’d now taken to calling Home instead. When you concentrated and weren’t in a rush, you could draw forth the lights that led to those worlds. It was almost as if there was a pushpin in them; something was just different about the way those lights shone when they appeared. Something that felt safe. Like they called to you. And that was how you always found your way back to them. 

As for navigating the rest of the multiverse? Well, you’d be the first to admit you were just winging it. You didn’t have the slightest damn clue about how your abilities worked, why you had them, or why they were after you. Once you’d found out how to call the lights forth and how to jump–and how to avoid being pulled–you’d just been on the run. Taking it day by day. Most of which were boring and involved tasks for basic survival, but at least that meant you were still alive.

Laying back in the patchy grass, you stared up at the clouds and one of the moons that were often visible here during the day–a sight you had long since gotten over. There were vastly weirder universes out there than ones with multiple moons or no Cool Ranch Doritos. Once, you’d stumbled on a universe where everything was like paint–liquid and colorful. Including yourself. And it was awful. 

Taking a moment now that you were safe, you tried to focus on your breathing, grounding yourself in this space after that brief encounter with them just before you'd jumped. You didn’t need to get pulled to Nightmare 1 again, not when you were finally somewhere safe. You figured you’d stay here for a few weeks, or however long it took for you to get lonely this time around, before you inevitably chanced it and went jumping somewhere else for real food, a change of scenery, or to stockpile more necessities–like soap. Because really, there was only so long you could go without at least seeing other humans, even if you couldn’t really befriend any of them. You were only human yourself after all, you definitely got lonely.

Steadily your eyelids lowered as you lay on your back, listening to the birdcall filling the air around you. Matt’s smiling face soon came to mind yet again. Something foreign and strange flitted in your stomach as you remembered how he’d actually asked you on a date. He’d been so persistent too, just like when he’d tried to help bandage your arm. It was strange. Most people you ran into barely noticed you, even in small towns. And he was blind so all he had to go on was your personality, which you knew was pretty goddamn prickly because you kept people at a distance on purpose. 

So why was he so interested in you?

Was it just because of his friend saying he saw you appear in that alley out of thin air? Because if so, why would he ask you on a date? Were you just some mystery he wanted to solve? Except he seemed genuinely interested in just talking to you–about anything. He had not remotely asked you questions about how you had oddly appeared in the alley like his friend had, and he hadn't really pushed when he'd found a question you wouldn't answer. And then he'd sounded so upset when he'd called out to you, trying to get you to stay just before you'd had to make a jump.

Who was this Matthew? And why did you find yourself beginning to think about him more and more, wishing you could have taken him up on that date?  

No, you told yourself firmly, eyes flying back open. Those are questions I can't afford to think about any longer.

With a huff you pushed yourself up off of the ground, wiping your dirty hands along the clean jeans you'd stolen from a dorm room. You needed to get your axe and chop some firewood before nightfall. You needed to reset your traps now that you were back so you could hopefully have something to eat by morning. You needed to get a pot of water boiling because you were thirsty as hell. What you didn't need to do was think about a cute college boy with his whole lawyer future ahead of himself, especially when you were sure his kindness and that face would soon draw the interest of someone else soon enough. He'd forget about you in a day or two, even if you knew you wouldn’t forget him that quickly.

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

God of Cowboys and Fools - Chapter One

Well. No time like the present. “I am the King in Yellow, and you are now my slave,” I tell him, because that is the truth and we might as well get it done.

He is a god, awakened in the crater of his birth. Somewhere out there is the Wizard he needs to ensure his misplaced immortality.

Now, if only the Wizard would just do as he was told instead of fighting back, they could get on with the business of living forever.

Written for the @malevolentmadnessmixup event! Art by @futuresoon.

>>> READ ON AO3 OR BELOW <<<

----------------------

Chapter One

It’s a hard day to walk across a desert.

I didn't know about deserts. Well. Knew about them, but only as a concept—a memory of a memory, facts and figures. Not feelings. Not the actual fucking experience of walking across this arid, arrogant land that dares burn me, a god, as I traverse it.

Human bodies, I’ve decided, are walking pieces of shit.

Heat shimmers, screwing with my vision on top of everything else. Or maybe it’s the dehydration. Still, I think I see a place up ahead. I’m sure I do. I am right. I will it so.

Then I trip and fall—not for the first time—and land heavily on this hard-packed dirt, on the sharp little stones, and now, for the first time in my existence, the first time since I gained flesh and blood and a heart to pump it, I speak: “Fucking damn it! Gods damn… shit fucker… shit!”

My stupid human hands bleed.

Well. At least yelling made me feel better. I’m not sure about the reason for that, but I’ll take the relief.

Up, King. You are holy. You are important.

Yes, yes, I know. Shut up, voice. Whoever that voice is. Keeps trying to tell me where to go. Didn’t want me going this way. But it’s wrong. I have to. I feel him up ahead. The town (I will it to exist, not like some mirage) awaits my arrival. Ready or not, you fuckers, here I come.

#

It is a human town of modest means. Dust on everything, dust in the horse-water (Troughs, supplies the voice), dust on clothes and in hair and on skin. People move like they’re conserving energy—small steps, no wasted movement, eyes shaded against the cruel sun, and lips in tight and terrible lines.

Everyone notices me here.

Good. They damn well better. They may not know it yet, but their new god has come, and they will honor him.

Me. They will honor me. Damn this confusing language.

You’re doing fine, King, says the voice.

Fuck that guy. I don’t… remember that guy. The voice was there when I woke, was there to tell me of clothes and water and names of body parts, was there to say what happened at the end (and I don’t remember what happened, but his recollection feels wrong), and is just there now.

I don’t know why I don’t trust him, but I don’t. Still. I’ve done everything he says—except staying where I was. I couldn't do that. What I want wasn’t back there. It’s here.

A man in all black with a battered but polished star-shaped badge meets my gaze and holds it. His own eyes gleam under his wide-brimmed hat, and his expression seems wary.

I should blast him.

Don’t blast him, says the voice. Not yet, anyway.

Fine. I stare back, giving as good as I get (for which he should be grateful because he isn’t melting).

“Afternoon,” he says with a nod, touching the tip of his hat.

I can do that. “Afternoon,” I say back, returning the gesture.

“New in town?” says the guy.

Law enforcement, says the voice. Just play nice. You aren’t at full power yet, and a bullet would still hurt you.

“Yep,” I drawl, because he drawled, because this newly-woven brain absorbs knowledge at a rate I’m sure would terrify this simple human.

“Plannin’ on stayin’ long?” he says.

Careful.

Like I needed to be told. Stupid voice. “Depends on what I find,” I allow, drawling even harder (take that).

“Oh?” He tips his head back a little. This man moves smoothly; he’s older than I thought, his hair gray on the sides of his face, but his eyes are sharp, and his hands are steady. “What is it you’re looking for, stranger?”

“A man,” I say. “A very specific man. I know he's here.”

“Well, I might could help you out there, seein’ as I’m the sheriff of this town, and I know just about everybody,” he says, taking his damn time to say it, too, and pauses to spit some brown, nasty poison on the side of the road.

Chew, says the voice. Tobacco.

Ew! “Kind of a private guy. Travels. Big into nature, plants and animals, that sort of thing,” I say, drawling even slower. “Goes by the name… of Arthur Lester.”

The voice hisses in my head. That’s new.

The sheriff goes real still. That’s bad.

I keep myself real still, too. If he tries to shoot me, he won’t be too happy how it goes.

“You sure about that?” said this sheriff, low.

I wish you’d waited for me to come to you instead, says the voice.

Yeah, no. “I’m sure.”

“How’d you even…” The sheriff stops and shakes his head. “Fine. Fine. I’ll tell you where you can find him, friend: in Jack’s Bar.” He points down the way toward a saloon. Faint honkey-tonk music filters past the batwing doors, out of tune and atrocious, and I just know that place will smell.

Why would an immortal wizard be there? “You sure?”

“Oh, yeah.” The sheriff doesn’t hesitate. “Anybody asks you questions, you can say Dowd said you’re okay for now. For now, mind. No shootin’, no breakin’ shit, no ruining anything in my town, you hear me?”

Ruin? Ruin?

I could wreak havoc on this place. I could burn it down to ash, to embers and screams, I could roast their bones over the fires of their flesh, I could—

Laughter creeps out of the saloon. Fuck. They’re doing things without me. I never thought of that before. The world continuing, emotions soaring, all without my knowledge or permission.

“That’s quite the look on your face, friend,” says sheriff Dowd, and it’s not nearly as friendly a tone.

“I just want to talk to him,” I say, because it is completely true. “I don’t plan to stay here a minute longer than I have to.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he says. “Off you go, now.”

Teeth clenched (what a weird feeling), I stalk toward Jack’s Bar.

#

It stinks, just like I thought it would.

Alcohol, vomit, and sex all linger here, just wisping past me like old smoke, and I briefly hate being in a human body. This weird form reacts to those things, like it wants to throw up, too, or something.

The men in here are sweaty. They wear suspenders, simple shirts, trousers of leather or linen, hats, and boots. The women wear voluminous dresses, cinched tight, that somehow manage to hide everything and reveal everything at once.

Fuck, this place smells like rotten teeth. Fuck.

It’s just for now, I remind myself. For now. Obviously, Arthur Lester has found a way to overcome this, or he wouldn’t be here. Fortunately for me, he’s easy to spot.

He’s so much better than all this fodder. Arthur Lester sits at the bar, leaning forward. His robe drapes his shoulders and falls in wide strips past his legs, just brushing his knee-high boots and held in place with his wide leather belt. There is no hat in sight.

I can tell by looking at him that he does not smell like the humans around him do. For one thing, his nails are perfectly clean. His hair—an indeterminate brassy color—is brushed back, neatly tied at the nape of his neck, and curls a little into the hood of his robe. He grips a mug of dark ale like a life-raft, staring into it and through it, like this is the only thing keeping him tied to this plane. His face and his eyes are red, like maybe he’s been crying. And all around him, warping the air, leeching color from floorboards, blurring the faces of anyone near him, is power.

Oh. Oh, this man. This is what I’m looking for. Right here.

My King, I could provide anything he could with significantly less trouble.

Whatever, voice. Shut it. I have my target now.

I approach him, unblinking. My stupid boots make noise, clunking and clonking. The leather of my vest creaks like some traitorous skin, and my poncho rustles. Even so, Arthur Lester doesn’t look up until I’m practically on top of him.

His eyes are solid blue, no pupil. Holy fuck. He’s blind?

“What?” he says, and something about the way he says it—the emphasized air in the wh, the crispness of the t—tells me that he speaks with an accent different from what I’ve so far heard. Fascinating.

Well. No time like the present. “I am the King in Yellow, and you are now my slave,” I tell him, because that is the truth and we might as well get it done.

Oh, for heaven’s sake! says the voice. Then the world explodes in fire and screaming, and the voice in my head is calling me names he absolutely should not.

[chapter two] [masterpost]

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #127

It's late where I live - almost midnight, and I'm very tired. J and I are on another road trip to PA. This time, he and I are going to fly the plane he got back home. After his shift at work, we drove for 4 hours to a place called Buffalo. We will drive the rest of the way to a place called Zelienople in the morning. Then we will fly back; J will be piloting the plane, of course. J is not yet used to flying this plane, but it's very similar to the one that he already knows well; he knows what he's doing, and I trust, without question or hesitation, that he will keep us safe. I'll be back in my house by this time tomorrow with LOTS of pictures to show you, so don't you worry about a thing, okay?

Br came over and I introduced her to the chocolate-cheddar cheese I got when we went to see the eclipse (it tastes like fudge; it's SO GOOD!), and that was pretty great! But I'm still pretty tired because I spent most of the day before the trip being emotional support for various folks. Some of the interactions challenged my boundary skills, but this is a good thing; we don't grow without some level of discomfort, and our boundary skills never improve if we don't get practice. I'm much better at it now than I used to be, and I'm looking forward to seeing where I'll be with this skill in another few years.

Since writing the letter to my inner child, I've had a lot more faith in my own ability to grow, change, and improve. It's kind of refreshing, actually. Self-loathing is kind of heavy, isn't it? I know I'll probably have days when I'll get a setback, but I've already grown enough in other ways to be very familiar with that phenomenon. One of the most important things one must remember when having a setback is that having a setback, in and of itself, means that there has been progress, and progress can be reproduced over and over and over again until it sticks. Human brains are learning machines, after all. I hope you'll put all the effort you can into learning how to genuinely love and care for yourself; it's one of the most important things you can do.

Oh! I made myself a strawberry rooibos tea today, too! Normally I like to drink black tea or green tea, but today I wanted to limit my caffeine consumption somewhat; caffeine dehydrates a body, and I've been struggling to keep hydrated lately for some reason; figured the thing to do, at least for today, is to try not to make my body use water to cleanse the caffeine from my system. Here's how today's turned out...

This one starts out orange-ish, and then resolves into a lovely shade of red:

I added some creamed honey; it settles to the bottom quite nicely:

And from there, I added heavy cream:

...I think you might like this flavor. It's like strawberries and cream; it's sweet and tart and very milky in flavor. Sometimes I think about combining this one with the vanilla-rose black tea (which is another one I think you'd absolutely love). I'll do that soon and tell you all about it, okay?

I don't have much else to say today; I'm pretty drained. But I do have a lot of pictures I took for you while we drove, simply because I know you like nature. I'll show you the ones that turned out best. It'll be mostly pictures of the sky, though; we didn't get moving until like 6pm-ish, so the lighting wasn't great for general scenery...

...Hey Sephiroth? Next time you're up in the sky, I hope you'll make it a point to dance merrily amongst the sun-drenched clouds - especially during dawn or during sunset, when they're painted in all sorts of vibrant colors; their kaleidoscopic brilliance would look amazing reflected off of you, I'm sure. And maybe you'd have fun, too.

That's all I've got for you today. Thanks for tagging along with me on this brief adventure. Please remember that there are folks here who like to imagine that the prismatic colors splashed upon the clouds by the morning and evening sun are the same as the ones that radiate from the deepest parts of your soul.

I love you. I'll write again soon. Please stay safe out there.

Your friend, Lumine

[discar]

HZD Terraforming Base-001 Text Communications Network

Chapter 32 | Prev chapter | Next chapter Chapter Index

FlameHairSavior: Varl, where are you?

BoyNextDoor: Outside. I've almost got our mounts ready.

FlameHairSavior: Oh, thanks.

Zo: Erend, please clean up your beer before you leave.

HIMBO: DONE!

Zo: I didn't mean chug it.

Zo: Oh, never mind.

DIVINER: Wait, where's Beta??

FlameHairSavior: I'm getting her ready.

β: im fine

FlameHairSavior: She doesn't like going outside.

β: i said im fine

MARSHAL Kotallo: I believe everyone is ready.

FlameHairSavior: All right, we're coming outside.

----

FlameHairSavior: We're ready to start.

FlameHairSavior: Sorry:

Zo: For what?

[FlameHairSavior] has invited [BoyNextDoor], [HIMBO], [β], [MARSHAL Kotallo], [DIVINER], and [Zo] to a holo-chat

DIVINER: Oh no.

FlameHairSavior: We need to be able to actually talk for at least some of this.

MARSHAL Kotallo: Best to get it over with.

----

HIMBO: SO. ZO.

Zo: Is something wrong?

HIMBO: NOT REALLY. JUST SITTING HERE DOING NOTHING.

Zo: You're supposed to be ready for the Zeniths!

MARSHAL Kotallo: You can't remain perfectly alert at all times.

HIMBO: SEE? LISTEN TO THE TENAKTH!

MARSHAL Kotallo: But you should still keep from allowing yourself to be distracted.

HIMBO: DON'T LISTEN TO THE TENAKTH.

DIVINER: I'm more worried about distracting Aloy and the others!!

HIMBO: IT'S FINE, THIS IS A PRIVATE CHAT.

FlameHairSavior: No it's not.

HIMBO: CRAP, SORRY.

FlameHairSavior: It's fine.

β: focus that one almost hit you

FlameHairSavior: How are you talking and texting at the same time?

β: multitasking

BoyNextDoor: While that's impressive, maybe just stick with one?

β: im only doing three things at once

β: im not even watching tv

Zo: ...are you normally watching shows when you talk to us?

β: sometimes

β: usually just listening to music

β: aloy above

FlameHairSavior: Yeah, I see it.

BoyNextDoor: You two are going to give me a heart attack.

----

DIVINER: Should I be concerned that none of us have been ambushed??

Zo: Do you WANT to be attacked?

DIVINER: No, but isn't that the point? We're supposed to be distractions!

MARSHAL Kotallo: Welcome to guard duty.

HIMBO: YEAH, YOU CAN NEVER TELL IF IT'S QUIET BECAUSE NOTHING WENT WRONG, BECAUSE NO ONE IS COMING FOR YOU, OR IF THEY FOUND A WAY AROUND YOU WITHOUT YOU NOTICING.

DIVINER: [Groan.gif]

DIVINER: How do you deal with it?

HIMBO: THE BOOZE HELPS.

Zo: PLEASE don't drink right now. This is important.

HIMBO: I'M NOT DRUNK, JUST NEED TO WET MY THROAT A BIT.

β: alcohol actually dehydrates the body increasing your need for water

HIMBO: WE DON'T NEED YOUR FANCY SCIENCE TALK RIGHT NOW.

MARSHAL Kotallo: That is not advanced knowledge. My tribe certainly knows that you need water more than alcohol.

BoyNextDoor: Same with the Nora.

Zo: I didn't know, but then, I rarely drink.

HIMBO: WHY DOES EVERYONE ALWAYS GANG UP ON ME?

----

FlameHairSavior: That's a big one.

BoyNextDoor: One second, let me tap into your video feed.

BoyNextDoor: ...okay, I can't do this. Beta?

β: oh wow i think hephaestus made that special for you

MARSHAL Kotallo: That means you get to name it.

β: really

HIMBO: IT'S TRADITION! FIRST PERSON TO SURVIVE MEETING A NEW MACHINE GETS TO NAME IT!

FlameHairSavior: According to my Focus, it already has a name. Slaughterspine.

β: oh

HIMBO: WELL THAT'S DISAPPOINTING.

MARSHAL Kotallo: Still, I have heard of slaughterspines. They are dangerous foes. Be on your guard.

DIVINER: I'm looking up pictures, and I can't figure out what Old World animal they're based on!

ADMIN [GAIA]: It appears to be based on the Spinosaurus, a North African spinosaurid that lived during the Late Cretaceous Period, approximately 99 million years ago. However, HEPHAESTUS seems to have used older, inaccurate models of the creature's design.

HIMBO: ...HUMANS WERE AROUND

HIMBO: NINETY-NINE MILLION

HIMBO: YEARS AGO???

ADMIN [GAIA]: No. But fossils from pre-historic times have been unearthed by every human civilization in history. Many of the ancient animals were misinterpreted as various supernatural monsters, but over time entire fields of study were dedicated to reconstructing the lives and appearances of these creatures. My predecessor was quite fond of them, and modeled many of her machines on extinct megafauna. When APOLLO was deleted and it became clear that Stage-2 organisms would not be re-introduced in a reasonable time frame, she began modeling many of her new machines off these more contemporary animals as well.

FlameHairSavior: Yeah, I saw all that in the Zero Dawn labs.

FlameHairSavior: Well, most of it.

FlameHairSavior: Okay, just bits and pieces.

Zo: Wait, aren't you fighting this thing right now?

FlameHairSavior: Multitasking.

BoyNextDoor: STOP TALKING AND JUST FIGHT!

----

FlameHairSavior: Well, that's done.

Zo: Thank the trees.

FlameHairSavior: Took longer than expected.

MARSHAL Kotallo: Only you would complain about taking too long to fight one of the most dangerous machines alone.

BoyNextDoor: She's always like this. At least we're done here.

β: we still have to hack it

FlameHairSavior: Right. Hacking. Computer hacking. Which I am sure I will... be able to do.

β: its easy you just match up the things with the other things and then follow the thing with the thing

FlameHairSavior: ...I'll be right over.

----

BoyNextDoor: That was interesting.

DIVINER: What? What??

BoyNextDoor: Watching Aloy not be instantly perfect at something.

FlameHairSavior: Ha. I practiced for everything I do, you know.

DIVINER: Oh, the hacking.

FlameHairSavior:  I'll get good at it eventually.

β: you wont need to because im here

DIVINER: Aw!

MARSHAL Kotallo: So that is a mission success?

FlameHairSavior: I think we're good. We just need to

FlameHairSavior: Ohshitohshit

DIVINER: ????

BoyNextDoor: ZENITH

[BoyNextDoor] has been DISCONNECTED [device not found]

Zo: Varl?

Zo: Varl!

MARSHAL Kotallo: Soldier, respond!

HIMBO: WHAT'S GOING ON OVER THERE?

β: aloy do it

β: dont let them take me

FlameHairSavior: I

β: aloy you promised

FlameHairSavior: I'm sorry.

β: YOU PROMISED

[β] has been DISCONNECTED [device not found]

[FlameHairSavior] has been DISCONNECTED [device not found]

ADMIN [GAIA] has been DISCONNECTED [device not found]

Chapter 32 | Prev chapter | Next chapter Chapter Index

[fortheloveofnutrition]

Hello friends, today I wanted to talk about electrolytes. We hear a lot about them when it comes to sports drinks and sweating, maybe even after a night of partying, but what the heck are they and why are they so important that we need to be replenishing them with specialized beverages?

Let's start with the most important question- what even are electrolytes?

According to the Cleveland clinic,"Electrolytes are substances that have a natural positive or negative electrical charge when dissolved in water. An adult's body is about 60% water, which means nearly every fluid and cell in your body contains electrolytes. They help your body regulate chemical reactions, maintain the balance between fluids inside and outside your cells, and more."

We may be familiar with some of these electrically charged minerals like::

Bicarbonate -your body uses this to keep your blood pH levels normal.

Calcium- used to control your muscles, transmit signals in your nerves, manage your heart rhythm and more.

Chloride- a key part of how your cells maintain their internal and external balance of fluid. It also plays a role in maintaining the body’s natural pH balance.

Magnesium- Magnesium helps your cells as they turn nutrients into energy. Your brain and muscles rely heavily on magnesium to do their job

Phosphate- a key part of transporting chemical compounds and molecules outside your cells. It helps your cells metabolize nutrients

Potassium- especially critical to your heart function

Sodium- Sodium plays a critical role in helping your cells maintain the right balance of fluid. It’s also used to help cells absorb nutrients. It’s the most abundant electrolyte ion found in the body.

As we have examined previously, many of these nutrients can be found in a wide assortment of foods. However, If you lose a significant amount of these minerals when you're sick, either through vomiting or diarrhea, or intense sweating, you will likely need to make a special effort to replenish electrolytes. Ok, but why? When the body is lacking electrolytes it can result in fatigue, headache, nausea, muscle cramps, and an overall feeling of low energy.

People who have POTS (Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome) often have a hard time with hydration and maintaining fluids. As a result, folks often have to make a concerted effort to consume sodium and electrolytes regularly to avoid unpleasant symptoms like headaches, nausea, poor sleep, weakness and fatigue, poor concentration and memory, and shaking/sweating.

Alright, good to know. So how does my body use these magical electrolytes? Your cells use electrolytes to conduct electrical charges, which is how your muscles contract. Those same electrical charges also help with chemical reactions, especially when it comes to hydration and the balance of fluids inside and outside of cells. The key principle that electrolytes rely on is that certain chemical elements can naturally hold a positive or a negative electrical charge. When those elements are dissolved in a liquid, that liquid can then conduct electricity.

Fantastic! So does that mean I should be buying every electrolyte product marketed to me? Not necessarily, as many sports drinks contain high levels of sugar and artificial dyes. Companies like Liquid IV and Skratch Labs have created drink mixes aimed at replenishing hydration and electrolytes while being more conscious of their nutritional profile. I've personally tried them both and I like them both. They do the job of hydrating the body well without the artificial dyes and excess sugars. I can't drink anything with red 40 because I have an allergic reaction every time, so these are a great alternative to conventional sports drinks. Not to mention both brands make great flavors which actually taste good. I use them whenever I feel dehydrated or under the weather in any way.

Stay hydrated my friends!

[knockout-stan]

TFP Dreadwing x sick!gn!reader

tw: vomiting and nausea. And very sappy dialogue.

word count: 1,365

Your head pounded, causing dizziness to swirl your body to the side. You gripped the wall near you and breathed slowly, recalibrating yourself to keep walking. Dehydration, you thought. After all, keeping a steady flow of fluids on the Nemesis was a bit of a challenge, even with the water system Soundwave had been nice enough to install for you. You walked to Dreadwing's habsuite where your stuff was in. Some water was definitely needed. Maybe a vitamin gummy too.

Then the nausea hit you like a freight train. Definitely a vitamin gummy now. The habsuite was empty when you arrived. You used this opportunity to drink water, eat that gummy, and even take a shower. Your room was a quick staircase up, with a balcony and your door in the wall. You were drying your hair on said balcony when Dreadwing had walked in.

"I thought I would find you here." Dreadwing spoke once his eyes found you. "I was... saddened to not see your face to greet me when I came back." He continued, his voice was soft and tender as he usually was when he was with you.

"Oh I'm sorry, I wasn't feeling well so I came back to get some water. And wash up since I think I might be getting sick." You explained to him.

"With what illness? Is it a fatal disease?" Dreadwing asked slowly as to not alarm you but there was still an urgency to his voice. Humans were either fragile, or very resilient, this much he knew. He hoped you were the latter.

"I dunno. I know last time I was at the store some people were talking about how there's a stomach bug going around." You answered, wringing out the last drips out water out of your hair.

"A parasite then?" He was much closer to you now. Even though your balcony was elevated, Dreadwing still had to bend down a bit to meet your gaze.

"It's a virus, actually. Stomach bug is what people call the stomach flu." You began to stand up. "I just need to rest, stay hydrated and be careful of what I-" Dizziness fell over you like a wave, sending you falling backwards. Dreadwing was quick to react, catching you with a single digit. "Careful of what I eat. Ugh," You held your head as it pounded with the aftershock of dizziness. Your body was a blender of sickness, mixing and swirling as nausea set in. You leaned your full body weight on Dreadwing's hand, unable to trust your own feet to keep you upright.

"_____? Is it the stomach bug?" Dreadwing questioned. "Do you need anything from me?"

"I'll be good in a sec I just-" Your stomach sent red alarms throughout your body. You were gonna hurl, and it was coming no matter what. You dashed away from Dreadwing's hand in an instant, grabbing the small trash bin near your door and emptied out your stomach in a gross concotion of your last meal while on your knees. You had half a mind to face away from Dreadwing to hide some of your shame.

You groaned deeply afterwards, pushing the nasty trash bin away from you and into your room.

"Are you alright?" You heard Dreadwing behind you, concern obvious in his voice. You sniffled and shuddered, feeling pathetic and weak like... like a human.

"No... Not at all." You uttered out.

"I shall get..." He almost mentioned Knockout, but Knockout wasn't a medic for humans. Nor did he show any interest in learning 'fleshy medicine' as he would state it. He was unsure who to call for to help you. His hesitation must've been apparent by the way you interrupted his pause.

"Love," A petname you use for him on occasion, usually to soothe or reassure him. Everytime you use it though, he hums in embarassment, "It's a stomach bug, so I'll be able to get better on my own. I'll just need help retrieving the things I need to get better. Stuff like medicine, and water. Some crackers too. I'll be stuck in bed for the next few days though." Your voice was hoarse, and your throat was beginning to get sore. Explaining what you needed to was more important, is what you told yourself. But you also knew that you didn't want to look like a fragile helpless human, the way every cybertronian saw you. Toughing this illness out was a way to prove that.

"Do not strain yourself further. You will rest and I shall collect what you need." He was a commander, but gentle in the way he spoke to you.

"Okay..." You whimpered out. Dreadwing offered one of his digits to help you up, which you took. You grabbed a bucket, a water bottle, and headed to your bed.

-

In a few short hours Dreadwing had somehow retrieved all the necessary items you listed out before. Normally, you would've asked about it but that could wait. For now, you were focused on keeping the medicine down.

"Is there anything else you may need?" Dreadwing asked outside your door with a knock.

You shuffled your way to the door with a blanket wrapped around you to answer, and apologize too maybe.

"I think I have everything." Your voice was thick with illness. "Um... Sorry for puking in front of you. That must've been really gross to see. I'm... a little embarassed you have to see me like this actually."

Dreadwing seemed perplexed by your apology. "You are so considerate of my feelings that you're...apologizing for getting ill?" He scoffed endearingly, a rarity to witness.

"Sweetspark, at your lowest I want to be there for you. At your highest I want to cherish you. I want to be beside you, loving you...for as long as I can. I want to witness all of you. Including the parts of you that you deem 'gross'." Dreadwing had graced a digit on your head, a small slow motion. He may not have said it out loud, but he was worried that your final moments alive were upon him. That his time with you had ran out so quickly. He was well aware of this dramatization in his thoughts, but nonetheless it was a small reminder that you must be treasured in every single moment he has with you.

So many of your defenses shouted in your head. What if this, what if that. You realized that all your defense mechanisms to keep yourself safe from pain, were keeping you from loving and feeling loved so closely. You decided that enough was enough. You were going to break through these defense mechanisms and let yourself be vulnerable, and be okay with whatever may come with it.

Dreadwing's digit was still on your head, so you reached up, letting your blanket fall, and hugged his hand as tight as you could. Your eyes screwed shut as you tightened your grip, but you could feel Dreadwing's hand escape you and you heard the sound of metal shifting and transforming. You opened your eyes to see Dreadwing's arms wrap around you. Mass shifting inside the Nemesis was rare for him, but for you he'd do just about anything.

Being held so closely almost made you forget you were even sick. Maybe the power of love was healing you. You scoffed at the thought.

"What's so funny?" He asked.

"The power of love, that's what." You chuckled.

"...No matter how much I believe I'm close to knowing everything about you, you always find a way to surprise me."

"Let me rephrase. I'm so glad I have you. I appreciate you taking care of me." You smiled up at Dreadwing. His eyes reflected your loving gaze.

"There is nothing I would not do for you." His voice was barely above a whisper, even in the close proximity. One of his digits held your chin up as his face got closer, merely centimeters apart before you realized something.

"Wait I'm still sick!" You exclaimed.

"With a human illness, sweetspark." He gently corrected.

"Oh, right right." You stood on your tippy toes to capture the kiss from Dreadwing to which he happily obliged.

[polyamorous-elevenv2]

I felt like writing angst, so here’s lumax hurt/comfort drabble for you, loves.

Words: 736

-

“Hey, hey, talk to me here.” Lucas’ soft voice interrupted Max’s spiral of pathetic thoughts. She was lying on the hospital bed, looking at the ceiling, not being able to move or feel anything in her body. It was annoying and if she had more water in her system, she would cry angry tears, but because she was still exhausted and dehydrated, she could only stare at the ceiling, hoping it won’t stare back at her this time. Without Vecna around, that is.

“But it’s stupid. And… not that important, anyway.” She sighed, hearing her groggy, hoarse voice. She wasn’t supposed to sound like that. The only thing keeping her talking was the doctor, who said that talking would make her voice and throat better with time. She swallowed hard before speaking. “I’m just emotional, that’s all.”

“MadMax.” Was all that Lucas said, but Max could see in her imagination his puppy-like eyes, begging her to open up to him. It’s the sight that would probably annoy her long ago, but now, she wished she was able to see it again. And she didn’t want to open up, not really, not to Lucas or anyone else. After everything that happened, she was just really fucking tired. 

But she felt helpless and vulnerable, so she thought: fuck it. Just this one time.

“Just- Just don’t laugh.” She said finally, gathering her courage before hearing him hum in agreement. “I just- I had that stupid dream that maybe- in some future or whatever, I would be able to, you know, walk down the isle on ou- my wedding day.” She corrected herself, not wanting to be too vulnerable at once, and although she was pretty sure Lucas did catch that, he didn’t comment or laugh, so she continued. “But here I am. Everything will be known in the future, weeks, months, I don’t even know, and right now, all I can do is lay here, and- and I can’t even turn my head to look at you. It’s- I feel so weak and helpless and angry, and I, I can’t do anything about it, Lucas. It’s tiring.”

She still couldn’t cry or move to look at him, so she did the only thing she could - lick her lips, trying to wet them, if only a little. It was better than just staring at the ceiling, but God, was it pathetic as hell. Her thoughts were a mess. Max knew Lucas enough to know that he wouldn’t just leave her alone - he said that much, just after she woke up a few days ago - but part of her was still scared that after hearing her helpless vulnerable self, he will just walk away. And that made that whole experience even scarier than it already was for her.

But before she could say something again, try to joke or mock him maybe, Lucas’ face came into her view. He wasn’t grinning, and she could tell by the bags under his eyes that he was tired, but… but she saw very clearly that bright, genuine smile on his face, and that overwhelming love in his eyes, that still could make Max’s heart flutter, even after so long of not being together.

“It’s not stupid.” His voice firm, as he slowly lowered himself to her face, and gave her a peck on the cheek, keeping his lips a little longer on her skin than necessary. “You can do it. I know you can. You will be able to walk and dance, and kick asses in no time! And, after all, hey. You’re my MadMax. You’ve already rocked my world with your badassery, so I’m sure you can do it again.” 

Max felt a lump form in her throat, seeing his grin and hearing those words. Lucas was so good for her, too good, really. But he was her rock, and she knew that he will be there for her no matter what.

Feeling emotional, Max was now grateful, that she wasn’t able to cry.

“Y,You are so, stupid, Stalker.” She said, trying to hide her affection with playful insult, knowing that Lucas will understand her anyway. And she didn’t say that words, yet, she couldn’t do it just now, but hoped that she could deliver that two important words to Lucas with her smile and her eyes alone—the appreciation of just being with her all this lonely time.

I love you.

[mindstriker]

this is stupid and normally i don't believe much that posting about your personal life could be useful to other people but fuck it, i want to talk about what happened to me this year as i both somehow started feeling the celiac i've probably had for years and was diagnosed with it. two important lists! don't use this to diagnose yourself, i'm not an armchair doc, but this was my experience with this funny disease.

THINGS I THOUGHT CELIAC DISEASE WAS AS I GOT PROGRESSIVELY WORSE AND SICKER OVER TIME:

lingering stomach issues/ a sensitive stomach combined with a caffeine/lactose intolerance that i took an excess amount of pepto-bismol for. i ate fucking cream of wheat a lot because i thought it was a "simple food" that would calm my stomach. how was i to know?

a bad hangover, because after one specific day drinking out with friends it just seemed to get worse and so much worse. (i had had pizza that day and even alcohol with gluten in it, i know now). this spiralled, as i continued to get worse and worse. i feared liver failure, kidney damage, thought somehow i'd managed to drink enough to permanently harm myself despite being very careful about my alcohol intake due to family history.

see previous. kidney damage/failure. liver damage/failure. SIBO (small intestine bacterial overload) or other such small intestine/large intestine issues. ulcers. i feared every single stomach/small intestine/large intestine condition with vaguely overlapping symptoms that seemed accurate to what i was experiencing. it was at this point that i wound up in the ER for the first of several times.

a viral stomach infection, because that's what the people at the ER told me it was the first time i went before sending me home :) nevermind the fact i told them i'd been sick for a long time. long enough that even if it had been a viral illness, something would have been Really Wrong.

endometriosis/ovarian cysts/ some kind of uterus/hormonal-related misery that had somehow gotten bad enough to affect other parts of my body. irrational thought? probably, but i was panicking. people want answers when they're panicking and feel like they're getting weaker and sicker by the week with no end in sight.

dehydration alone. no other issue here, you just don't drink enough water. you're also strangely losing weight and suffering some kind of malnutrition? maybe you need to eat better. this was after going to the ER a second time, and being dismissed as dehydrated because i didn't drink enough water. i was confused. i drank water- enough of it that i should have been fine. i had never let it go to the point of suffering ill effects, but i didn't want to question anyone- you say it's my fault and don't question whether or not my gut is even fucking absorbing the food, electrolytes, and water i'm giving it? sure thing boss. my bad.

at some point i genuinely just assumed i was dying of something, not even going to lie. call me dramatic if you will but people do not take being incredibly sick constantly for eight months nonstop with grace. i was paranoid i had some kind of cancer no one was recognizing, or permanent intestinal damage of some kind.

THINGS I EXPERIENCED WITH CELIAC WHILE UNWELL:

Gas, bloating, a constant strange sense of discomfort in my guts, etc- a lot of gastrointestinal symptoms you'd equate with having some kind of stomach flu or stomach ulcers.

Bad acid reflux.

Constant nausea to some degree. Sometimes bad enough that it left me retching for half an hour, sometimes just a vague queasiness that drove me insane. I never threw up once over the span of this eight months, but I gagged and retched and felt like I was Going To constantly over this span of time. This was the worst to me personally, despite the pain and discomfort of everything else. I am still prone to anxiety attacks whenever I feel myself possibly getting even slightly nauseous now. Funnily, thought, I am not afraid of the concept of throwing up.

Bad stomach cramping, internal pains.

Awful fatigue. Like, BAD fatigue. Keep in mind, I already live with arthritis and mental illness, so I'm used to managing fatigue- but up until I started feeling Celiac symptoms, I had it firmly under control with medicine. I could barely feel awake at any time of day, I would sleep for 18-20 hours straight at times, all too often I couldn't even muster up the energy to move when I wanted to. I'd just lie there and feel like I was about to shut down and fall asleep again.

Brain fog, exacerbations of all the other symptoms of my other conditions. etc. Any mental health condition I had that I had previously had under control? Nope. You are the pinnacle of misery now.

Perpetual dehydration and malnutrition despite my best attempts at vitamins/hydration/electrolyte consumption and so on and so forth. None of that can do much for you when your body isn't absorbing anything. I also dropped weight like a stone.

No appetite whatsoever, of course.

When it got really bad, the insomnia I already had became so much worse. I suddenly couldn't sleep no matter how hard I tried, sometimes even with the application of my insomnia medication. I would be stuck awake until I physically could no longer handle that, and then I'd be out again for up to 18-19 hours or more.

[fatiguedfatso]

⋆˚࿔ my may diet plan 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

may is really the last month before summer begins which means no more excuses, no more laziness. i decided to come up with a diet plan for this month, one that is more likely to work for me. i'm not telling you to do this diet plan, this probably won't work for you, it is purely based on tips i've received from others and information about what does/doesn't work for my body. this is going to be quite long, sorry ! >:3 𐙚 meals omad doesn't work for me, it almost always leads to a binge. i've realized this after trying to make it work for a long time. instead of forcing myself into something that is going to lead to self-destruction, i want to work with my own body/mind. breakfast - it isn't something i often do, i just prefer to wake up later and can never fit it into my schedule, but i think it might help me a lot. getting some energy into my body before school will help me feel less zombie-like throughout the day. sticking to the same meals every day is quite boring, but in the mornings it's hard for me to want to make anything. i'm going to be sticking to a greek yogurt bowl filled with fruits, granolas, etc. this is a super filling meal !! on the weekends, i might switch it up a bit, but we'll see. dinner - seeing as i live with my family, i don't have a lot of choices when it comes to dinner. i'm not often the one cooking the meals which does make it a bit hard to control the calories. this definitely won't be as uniformed as my breakfasts, but i'll make sure to track it as much as i can !! not allowed at all - sodas/coffees + noodles 𐙚 exercise

my biggest struggle fr. i am terrible with actually putting in the effort to work out, but it will make weight loss so much easier. i'd love to just be lazy and not do it at all, but i want to try to at least stick with it for a month. maybe not every single day this month, but at least 4 days a week. walking - getting steps in is so important. there are so many days i just spend rotting in bed because i'm too lazy to get up, but that is so unacceptable. it is difficult for me to get a lot of steps in because i can't go on walks alone (don't attempt suicide, kids.) so i will just walk back and forth in my room. my room isn't very big so it takes about 30 minutes for me to get 1,000 steps in if i'm walking at a regular pace, but if i try hard enough i can do about 1,300 steps in 30 minutes. youtube workouts - i will be trying out different youtube workouts, i'll probably post about which ones i'm doing each day. i have knee issues so the workouts i do probably won't work for you ! make sure to do workouts based on YOUR body. 𐙚other

distractions - being distracted is so so so important for me! i often eat because of boredom which is actually why my weight got so heavy in the first place. i will probably make a separate post about my favorite ways to distract myself. water - drinking water before meals is the best way to prevent overeating. since i am trying to cut out sugary drinks completely, i want to increase my water intake. i'm often dehydrated, but water helps with weight loss so much! being in the right mind - i think to actually do something, you really need to believe in yourself. if i'm constantly telling myself "oh, i'm not going to lose the weight", i am just ruining my own progress because those negative thoughts become reality. i don't think i'm going to become my ugw in a month, but i do believe i can make some good progress this month! MWAHHH!! tysm if you read this whole thing, i yapped a lot. come up with your own diet plan, each body is different, but i hope my diet plan inspired you! :D

[macgyvermedical]

Ok, so, this is kind of a stupid question, but how do you go about bathing someone who's too injured/otherwise temporarily incapable of doing so themself? (Particularly with washing the hair?)

In the case of my particular story, if that helps I have a character who's had a bit of a rough time out on a several days' journey in the wilderness (so, you know, limited opportunity for things like washing yourself, even if you don't add in the Whump and such good stuff), brought to safety, and he's at this point sort of semi-conscious, has a fever bc infected wounds are fun, a couple of varyingly serious wounds in different places on his body, a broken collarbone, a badly sprained ankle, and major burns to one leg. (Yes, I know that's a lot, don't @ me lol.) I've pretty much looked up the treating the injuries side of things already, but I was hoping you'd help me with the question of how to bathe him?

Thank you so much for your help!

Eh, this level of injury would be pretty common for the floor I work on, maybe just getting surgery to fix the collar bone and wound care/antibiotics for the burn. I'd just want an answer to the question of why he's semi-conscious. Some options would be dehydration (common with large burns), a head injury (the most long-lasting of the possibilities), or the infection itself, especially if he's older or going into septic shock (which would probably require an ICU stay). So you decide.

Cleaning someone is a pretty basic nursing skill but it's something that pretty much no one knows how to do if you're not a nurse or nurse-aide.

You essentially start at the head and work your way down. You'll need either 2 packets of bath wipes (if you're fancy) or a bucket of warm soapy water (no-rinse soap makes the process so much easier). You'll also need wash cloths (many), towels, bath blankets, a fresh gown, a no-rinse shower cap for hair washing (again if you're fancy), a fresh gown, and fresh linens if also changing the bed.

Picture the patient lying on the bed with a blanket over them. Bring the bed up to waist level, remove the regular blankets and put bath blankets on the patient. Bath blankets are smaller cotton blankets that have a tighter weave and can keep the patient getting the bath a little warmer. Some places have blanket warmers so the blankets are warm when they are used. Which is nice.

You can start with the hair. Put a bath blanket or chux pad under the patient's head to protect the bed. You then take a shower cap and put a little warm water and shampoo/no-rinse soap in it. Then get all the patient's hair into the cap and mush it around until the hair is damp, then dry it with a towel and wrap the towel around the head.

Then move onto the face- try to do each eye and around the mouth with different corners of a wash cloth, working from inside to outside. Put that wash cloth in the hamper and get another one damp, and begin to work your way down the body, taking off the patient's gown in the process but keeping them covered with the bath blankets. Any time you wash something smelly or particularly soiled (crotch, butt, pits, feet, etc...), get another wash cloth. You shouldn't re-dip the same wash cloth because that can contaminate the rest of the water (usually with poop, and who wants that?).

Then you're going to have to roll the patient on their side to clean their back and the backs of their legs.

Once you're completely finished, you put a new gown on the patient and remove the bath blankets.

If you're changing the linen, this is way easier shown via video, so watch below:

It's generally a little... messier than this, but even if the patient can't move themself, an aide or nurse is usually able to do this by themself but it's a lot easier to have someone help turn and hold the patient while you're doing the rest of the stuff.

It's also important to think that the person doesn't stop pooping and peeing just because they're unconscious. A lot of times you're going to have to change at least the pad out from under the person and clean their peri area several times per day in addition to the full bath and linen change.

[itgirlthoughts]

Morning Routine

After someone asked me how my morning was going, I thought I’d give some tips on how to make mornings better. Better yet, how to make your day better by just starting it off with a few things. Starting your days better is a step to healing, progress, success and much more.

Will you try any of these? Which ones?

So here are 10 ways to make your mornings better:

1. Do 15 minutes of stretches.

Right when you wake up, stretch or do some yoga for 15 minutes. This will naturally stimulate your body; it’s like an espresso shot right to your brain. And unlike coffee, this natural energy boost could last you all day.

2. Stay away from electronics.

When you start your day by checking your email or social media, you’re immediately putting yourself into a state of stress. Instead of doing this, try reading a book or doing something creative.

3. Make a plan for the day.

If you didn’t write out a to-do list the night before, do it in the morning. This gives you a game plan and purpose for your day. It also helps you stay focused and productive, ensuring that you get more done.

4. Listen to upbeat music or read an inspirational book.

Start your day by listening to positive music or reading a motivational book. This sets you up to have a better day because you’ll have a positive mindset and a good attitude.

5. Eat a healthy breakfast.

I know you’ve heard this before, but breakfast is very important. Ever since I started eating a healthy breakfast every morning, I’ve found that I have more energy, I’m more productive, and I can focus better. Some people just can’t seem to stomach food first thing in the morning, though. If that’s you, at least keep a quick (and healthy) snack with you for when you do get hungry.

6. Do something that makes you happy.

Give yourself a little treat or do something that makes you happy. This will be different for everyone. Maybe you want to go get a coffee from your favorite coffee shop, maybe you want to write in your journal, maybe you want to do a workout. Just be sure to give yourself a little “me-time” and do something that you enjoy.

7. Drink some water.

After you’ve been sleeping for 8 hours, you usually wake up feeling dehydrated. So drink a large glass of water in the morning to re-hydrate yourself and help yourself feel more awake and energized. Putting lemon in the water is an added bonus. Lemon helps boost your immune system, aids in your digestion, makes you feel energized, and more.

8. Get ready, even if you’re just sitting at home.

Unless you want to have a lazy day (which is okay sometimes!) take the time to get ready for your day. Even if you’re not doing anything, getting dressed and ready will help you feel more “put together” which can make you feel more energized and lead to a way more productive and enjoyable day.

9. Wake up at the same time.

I know you may want to sleep in sometimes, but you should really try to wake up at the same time every day. This helps put your body on a schedule, which will make waking up easier and easier for you. If you stick to this schedule, you might even eventually be able to wake up without an alarm.

10. Tackle your hardest to-do first.

When you’re ready to start working, tackle your hardest to-do list task first. This helps you have a better day because you know you’ve accomplished at least one big thing. Doing this can also help you be more productive because it might motivate you to tackle the rest of your to-do list as well.

lifehack.org

[by--heart]

🌻 Ed harm reduction tips!!! 🌻

🌱 Tips for less brain fog 🌱

(Plz block, dont report)

Hi guys! I know a lot of ed sufferers struggle with low energy and tiredness, especially during winter, so I thought I'd make a cheat sheet of how to boost up your energy levels when a low energy diet is impacting your ability to focus and live your life to its fullest! Obviously the best solution is to up your calories, but this isnt possible for everyone.

🌸🌼🏵🌸🌼🏵🌸

There are, in my mind, 5 factors that impact our energy levels on any given day -- this is excluding extenuating circumstances like if you are chronically ill of course.

Food 🍎

Water 💧

Sleep 🛏

Temperature ❄

Exercise 👟

1. Food

Obviously this is the main factor that we are lacking in when we restrict. Low calories can lead to brain fog and fatigue, and so during extreme restriction we need to try and combat this by really focusing on the non-food factors listed above that can hinder our energy levels. However, even in the framework of a very low calorie diet, there are certain foods that will lead to less fatigue, such as more nutrient dense foods. But, I'm no expert on nutrition, and it's very complex and debatable, so I wont explore that here! You can do some research if you like.

2. Water

Dehydration is a massive energy killer! Most regular people dont get the recommended water in a day, and because we are lacking water that other people get from food, we are even more at risk of dehydration. Additionally, if you exercise a lot, you will need even more water than that! Drinking water also burns calories (a bit) and reduces cravings, so there is nothing to lose. Please let me know if you want me to expand on the importance of water.

3. Sleep

8 hours are so essential to optimal brain functioning and wakefulness. Fat loss is also harder for the body on too little sleep, so do try to get 8 hours.

4. Temperature

Personally, I find that food cravings and fatigue are increased by being cold. Being cold can cause the body to slow down and reduce blood/oxygen flow to certain body parts, leading to more drowsiness and sleepiness. To keep yourself more high energy, dress in warm clothes when it's cold and maybe bring a thermos of warm water, tea or coffee with you! This can also help hydration.

Alternatively, being too warm can also cause drowsiness, as it makes the body think that it is in bed and therefore encourages sleep. To combat this, try and perhaps have some cold water with you instead that you can sip when you feel like sleeping.

5. Exercise

Being too inactive throughout the day can cause sluggishness and lethargy. Sometimes just a walk down your street can help wake you up (and this can go hand in hand with the temperature point). Simple exercises inside can also help you wake up! At times when I've been studying while fasting and felt sleepy, a piece of gum really helped me wake up as well, due to the motion it requires from the jaw.

🌹🌻🌷🌹🌻🌷🌹🌻🌷🌹🌻🌷

I hope this was useful to someone and that it's made you consider the different energy sources you can use when food isn't an option currently, rather than zoning out and being unfocused in your day to day life. Take care!

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

God of Cowboys and Fools - Chapter One

Well. No time like the present. “I am the King in Yellow, and you are now my slave,” I tell him, because that is the truth and we might as well get it done.

He is a god, awakened in the crater of his birth. Somewhere out there is the Wizard he needs to ensure his misplaced immortality.

Now, if only the Wizard would just do as he was told instead of fighting back, they could get on with the business of living forever.

Written for the @malevolentmadnessmixup event! Art by @futuresoon.

>>> READ ON AO3 OR BELOW <<<

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Chapter One

It’s a hard day to walk across a desert.

I didn't know about deserts. Well. Knew about them, but only as a concept—a memory of a memory, facts and figures. Not feelings. Not the actual fucking experience of walking across this arid, arrogant land that dares burn me, a god, as I traverse it.

Human bodies, I’ve decided, are walking pieces of shit.

Heat shimmers, screwing with my vision on top of everything else. Or maybe it’s the dehydration. Still, I think I see a place up ahead. I’m sure I do. I am right. I will it so.

Then I trip and fall—not for the first time—and land heavily on this hard-packed dirt, on the sharp little stones, and now, for the first time in my existence, the first time since I gained flesh and blood and a heart to pump it, I speak: “Fucking damn it! Gods damn… shit fucker… shit!”

My stupid human hands bleed.

Well. At least yelling made me feel better. I’m not sure about the reason for that, but I’ll take the relief.

Up, King. You are holy. You are important.

Yes, yes, I know. Shut up, voice. Whoever that voice is. Keeps trying to tell me where to go. Didn’t want me going this way. But it’s wrong. I have to. I feel him up ahead. The town (I will it to exist, not like some mirage) awaits my arrival. Ready or not, you fuckers, here I come.

#

It is a human town of modest means. Dust on everything, dust in the horse-water (Troughs, supplies the voice), dust on clothes and in hair and on skin. People move like they’re conserving energy—small steps, no wasted movement, eyes shaded against the cruel sun, and lips in tight and terrible lines.

Everyone notices me here.

Good. They damn well better. They may not know it yet, but their new god has come, and they will honor him.

Me. They will honor me. Damn this confusing language.

You’re doing fine, King, says the voice.

Fuck that guy. I don’t… remember that guy. The voice was there when I woke, was there to tell me of clothes and water and names of body parts, was there to say what happened at the end (though I remember what happened, and his recollection mismatches mine), and is just there now.

I don’t know why I don’t trust him, but I don’t. Still. I’ve done everything he says—except staying where I was. I couldn't do that. What I want wasn’t back there. It’s here.

A man in all black with a battered but polished star-shaped badge meets my gaze and holds it. His own eyes gleam under his wide-brimmed hat, and his expression seems wary.

I should blast him.

Don’t blast him, says the voice. Not yet, anyway.

Fine. I stare back, giving as good as I get (for which he should be grateful because he isn’t melting).

“Afternoon,” he says with a nod, touching the tip of his hat.

I can do that. “Afternoon,” I say back, returning the gesture.

“New in town?” says the guy.

Law enforcement, says the voice. Just play nice. You aren’t at full power yet, and a bullet would still hurt you.

“Yep,” I drawl, because he drawled, because this newly-woven brain absorbs knowledge at a rate I’m sure would terrify this simple human.

“Plannin’ on stayin’ long?” he says.

Careful.

Like I needed to be told. Stupid voice. “Depends on what I find,” I allow, drawling even harder (take that).

“Oh?” He tips his head back a little. This man moves smoothly; he’s older than I thought, his hair gray on the sides of his face, but his eyes are sharp, and his hands are steady. “What is it you’re looking for, stranger?”

“A man,” I say. “A very specific man. I know he's here.”

“Well, I might could help you out there, seein’ as I’m the sheriff of this town, and I know just about everybody,” he says, taking his damn time to say it, too, and pauses to spit some brown, nasty poison on the side of the road.

Chew, says the voice. Tobacco.

Ew! “Kind of a private guy. Travels. Big into nature, plants and animals, that sort of thing,” I say, drawling even slower. “Goes by the name… of Arthur Lester.”

The voice hisses in my head. That’s new.

The sheriff goes real still. That’s bad.

I keep myself real still, too. If he tries to shoot me, he won’t be too happy how it goes.

“You sure about that?” said this sheriff, low.

I wish you’d waited for me to come to you instead, says the voice.

Yeah, no. “I’m sure.”

“How’d you even…” The sheriff stops and shakes his head. “Fine. Fine. I’ll tell you where you can find him, friend: in Jack’s Bar.” He points down the way toward a saloon. Faint honkey-tonk music filters past the batwing doors, out of tune and atrocious, and I just know that place will smell.

Why would an immortal wizard be there? “You sure?”

“Oh, yeah.” The sheriff doesn’t hesitate. “Anybody asks you questions, you can say Dowd said you’re okay for now. For now, mind. No shootin’, no breakin’ shit, no ruining anything in my town, you hear me?”

Ruin? Ruin?

I could wreak havoc on this place. I could burn it down to ash, to embers and screams, I could roast their bones over the fires of their flesh, I could—

Laughter creeps out of the saloon. Fuck. They’re doing things without me. I never thought of that before. The world continuing, emotions soaring, all without my knowledge or permission.

“That’s quite the look on your face, friend,” says sheriff Dowd, and it’s not nearly as friendly a tone.

“I just want to talk to him,” I say, because it is completely true. “I don’t plan to stay here a minute longer than I have to.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he says. “Off you go, now.”

Teeth clenched (what a weird feeling), I stalk toward Jack’s Bar.

#

It stinks, just like I thought it would.

Alcohol, vomit, and sex all linger here, just wisping past me like old smoke, and I briefly hate being in a human body. This weird form reacts to those things, like it wants to throw up, too, or something.

The men in here are sweaty. They wear suspenders, simple shirts, trousers of leather or linen, hats, and boots. The women wear voluminous dresses, cinched tight, that somehow manage to hide everything and reveal everything at once.

Fuck, this place smells like rotten teeth. Fuck.

It’s just for now, I remind myself. For now. Obviously, Arthur Lester has found a way to overcome this, or he wouldn’t be here. Fortunately for me, he’s easy to spot.

He’s so much better than all this fodder. Arthur Lester sits at the bar, leaning forward. His robe drapes his shoulders and falls in wide strips past his legs, just brushing his knee-high boots and held in place with his wide leather belt. There is no hat in sight.

I can tell by looking at him that he does not smell like the humans around him do. For one thing, his nails are perfectly clean. His hair—an indeterminate brassy color—is brushed back, neatly tied at the nape of his neck, and curls a little into the hood of his robe. He grips a mug of dark ale like a life-raft, staring into it and through it, like this is the only thing keeping him tied to this plane. His face and his eyes are red, like maybe he’s been crying. And all around him, warping the air, leeching color from floorboards, blurring the faces of anyone near him, is power.

Oh. Oh, this man. This is what I’m looking for. Right here.

My King, I could provide anything he could with significantly less trouble.

Whatever, voice. Shut it. I have my target now.

I approach him, unblinking. My stupid boots make noise, clunking and clonking. The leather of my vest creaks like some traitorous skin, and my poncho rustles. Even so, Arthur Lester doesn’t look up until I’m practically on top of him.

His eyes are solid blue, no pupil. Holy fuck. He’s blind?

“What?” he says, and something about the way he says it—the emphasized air in the wh, the crispness of the t—tells me that he speaks with an accent different from what I’ve so far heard. Fascinating.

Well. No time like the present. “I am the King in Yellow, and you are now my slave,” I tell him, because that is the truth and we might as well get it done.

Oh, for heaven’s sake! says the voice. Then the world explodes in fire and screaming, and the voice in my head is calling me names he absolutely should not.

[chapter two] [masterpost]