Relationship Backstory: We have been together for 10 years. We don’t have children and we own a house together. My family is estranged/dead so I don’t have any familial support, but I’m quite close with his family. We had our ups and downs, but the first 7 years were pretty good. By year 7, I bought the wedding dress of my dreams and planned to propose to him. And then his physical health started drastically declining.
Personal Backstory: I’m only including this because it’s relative to the reader to fully understand my perspective of things. My father and mother were both addicts to various things, my mother was abusive, and my father tried to murder me. I’ve been married before (young and trying to escape my mother), but that man unfortunately turned to drug dealing and abuse as well. I’ve heartbreakingly joked that maybe I just bring the worst out in people. You know what they say - when everyone around you is an asshole, you’re the asshole? Yeah it’s that feeling. I went through many years of therapy and medications, and my current partner had been super supportive when I had my own mental breakdown at one point, and I’m happy to say that I am now much improved and loving life.
Current Story: 3 years ago, my partner started acting strange. It was a very stressful time for society because that was the beginning of the pandemic, but as we were both introverted homebodies, the pandemic didn’t impact our social life that much. I had already been working remote, and his office job finally transitioned to remote much to his delight. We had separate offices to keep the boundaries, and everything seemed good.
But then he would start sleeping A LOT. A lot a lot. During the day, during the night, while working, passing out while going out with friends (beginning of the pandemic when no one knew what was going on). I coaxed him to get sleep testing to rule out things like narcolepsy and apnea, but nothing was conclusive. In this time period, he started drastically losing weight, became distant and angry with everyone, and for the first time in our relationship, was actually quite cruel with me. He refused to visit any other doctor, and instead started dosing himself with kratom tea to “calm his anxiety”.
9 months after his mysterious health issues began, he started having delusions, visual and auditory hallucinations, and manic episodes. I was horrified, and took him to a psychiatrist, who diagnosed him with bipolar disorder and put him on Divalproex for it. I was unconvinced it was bipolar disorder, but hey I’m not the doctor. And the doctor also okayed the continued usage of kratom tea. 2 months after that, he disappeared in the middle of the night. I tracked him down to the local hospital where he ended up staying for one week due to 3 day long psychotic break. They found absolutely nothing wrong with him, and sent him home. 4 days later, it happened again. I was at my wit’s end here.
Eventually, the psychotic breaks calmed down, but then he started having nocturnal seizures. They would last literally all night long, and I honestly couldn’t figure out if they were sleepwalking, seizures, or just nocturnal psychotic breaks. Sleep specialists, his PCP, and his psych (who took him off the Divalproex) were most unhelpful. One day I finally snapped (from my own stress and lack of sleep) and dragged to another doctor who prescribed him Klonopin for the anxiety, which also magically stopped the nocturnal issues. We were referred to another psychiatrist, who thinks that my partner has been suffering from nocturnal temporal lobe epilepsy this entire time - since the Klonopin had stopped whatever was going on at night. I was again unconvinced this was this issue. Just - everything felt so wrong in my gut. But it’s ok because the Klonopin seemed to be helping, and he even got a medical marijuana card.
Now, it had been a tumultuous 3 years for me. I lost my grandmother (may she rest in peace) and my abusive mother to COVID-19, my senior kitty had also passed on, I had horribly broken my foot which took forever to heal, and had also been diagnosed with a physical health issue of my own, we were bleeding money from the economic downturn and all the added bills, plus his mysterious health issues and -
And through all of it - he just did not care. At all. He did not care that all that was happening to him. He did not care that my family and my cat died and that I was injured and in pain, and I had to deal with all that alone. I meant it when I said he was distant. We may have officially been in a relationship, but the past 3 years, I’ve been completely alone and yet still trying to care for him. He had even lost his remote job due to his health, and I ended up going through my connections to get him hired in another cushy remote position that doesn’t even mind if he needs to suddenly take the day off because of health.
And then I found the drugs hidden in his nightstand. I looked a ton of them up, and I still can’t even figure out what some of them are, but a lot of them were various opioids, benzos, and muscle relaxants. I confronted him about it, he came clean to me that he’s been dosing and overdosing himself with these things for the past few years.
Everything he and I had gone through, he had caused himself. And he lied to and gaslighted me the entire time.
I tore the house apart and found, hopefully, his entire stash. There were thousands of pills, like he was hoarding or heck even drug dealing for all I know. I called his family, and his mother is the one who - after this entire time - confided in me that my partner has had substance abuse issues in the past, before we had met.
Y’all I swore I would never be the type of person who would leave because my partner is going through serious shit. That’s why I tried to stay by him for these past 3 years. Even my first reaction - upon finding all these pills - was oh gosh we need to get him in rehab and therapy. He did the normal reaction.. begged me to stay and that he’ll do whatever I ask of him and all that jazz. I didn’t want to give up on him just yet, but I needed some sort of boundary to keep my sanity, so I asked him for separate bedrooms in the time being while we sorted out his future.
Finally, it came to a breaking point during a car ride home from his parents. He has a performance car and loves risky speeding and weaving and racing in traffic. I absolutely hate it for the obvious reasons, but also especially since I’ve been in a car crash before that nearly killed me. I’ve begged him before to slow down, at least when I’m in the car. He doesn’t care and just tells me that he “likes to drive this way”.
After spending the last 3 years with him, after supporting him so much and then finding out all this shit, I realized that this simple car ride just summed up what our relationship was going to be like for the rest of our lives. He was never going to prioritize me - not for my safety or sanity or out of any love for me. If he couldn’t choose me over his car, he was never going to be able to choose me over drugs. It makes sense now why, weeks later, there’s just been excuses upon excuses with his insurance and struggle to find a rehab center and a therapist who would take him.
I need to bow out. I no longer have the fortitude for this. And unfortunately - in this economy, with no one left in my life to help me - I am stuck.
tldr: My partner has mysterious health issues for 3 years, becomes a bag useless of dicks, turns out he's abusing drugs, and now I want out but can't because this economy sucks.
Thank you for reading my vent.

What are some elements that can be incorporated into new construction that would make conversion to an accessible residential property easy? Let's say you were building a 150 unit development of detached single family homes. Not every home would be sold to somebody who needed accessibility, but some things are easier to design in at the time of construction.
Three foot doorways are one example - put these in from the start so if anybody needs a wider doorway they are already there.
Low barriebarrier free shower (at least one)
Bathrooms with toilets that aren't wedged into tiny spaces between the vanity and wall
Support beans in bedrooms that can handle grab bars hanging down.
Kitchens with islands but enough room to navigate around them
Garages big enough to park and use a vehicle with a wheelchair lift, and designed to have enough room for a ramp if needed
Bedrooms with electric wiring sufficient to power home medical equipment
Space reserved to install a lift between floors with no structural modification
Reinforced walls in bedrooms to provide storm protection in case somebody can't get to a shelter quick enough
A place with sufficient floor reinforcement, plumbing and power to accommodate a therapy tub if one is needed
What are some other ideas?

Fuck…
When I was 14
Well let’s go back to when I was 10, I guess.
I was a big fan of John Lennon and David Bowie and Elvis Presley.
But I had a condition..
Dexterity/motor skill problem.
I still have it to this day.
my hands are always shaking, And I exhibit the penmanship of a toddler to this day
I found an old guitar in my grandma‘s closet while we stayed with her in Los Banos before we moved to Reno Nevada From San Jose California.
My grandma and grandpa did not know how the guitar even got there in the first place, but they were old and maybe one of them bought it at one time and forgot.
I asked Grandma If could take the guitar.
I think the guitar was called “Aslin Dane. Ariel Pro III…”
This unique strat-style guitar seemed older than the redwoods my family had recently said goodbye to.
That was when I was 10….
We lived a normal life in Reno after that and we all loved the high dessert and mountain air.
I was 14 and now and we were assimilated in northern Nevada.
I had spent four years trying to even play a chord or a note on this mysterious guitar and ground my fingers away on it daily, but my hands were too shaky.
I couldn’t write a song.
I couldn’t do anything.
I prayed to God, even though it was a joke.
I didn’t believe in angels or God or the Bible.
My parents are both atheist my father is a man of science.
I grew up as an atheist I had no religious disposition at the time.
Subsequently, I got into heavy metal, dark hair, dark music and occult Ouija board shit. Not because I believed in anything really, but because I thought it was cool.
I was like: “there’s no god anyways so I might as well just be dark as I can be”.
it was a phase.
It was a fad.
So, arrogantly, I came home one day.
I still could not even pretend to play the guitar and I was angry because I thought I deserved talent.
So…. midnight one night, I decided to take every family album; every picture of myself that I could find in the house, my yearbooks throughout the years. I took these pictures and I drew pentagrams on my forehead and crossed out my eyes.
I then lit some candles and I said: “I know there’s no god, because if there was a god I would be able to play this guitar”
….I swore allegiance to the devil if he would come right now and show himself and make me able to play.
Maybe five minutes after I said this out loud and had lit the candles and did the séance…
Well, i should say that it must’ve been 2004 and there were zero electric vehicles at the time.
Though there weren’t electric vehicles in those days, I would describe what I heard and five minutes later; slowly prowling up to the front of my house, as an electric car.
It sounded like a heavy piece of metal moving with no engine.
Almost like how the Jetsons ship sounds.
And then I immediately started to sweat cold sweat.
The candles were still lit and I swear…across the wall in front of me, I saw an anthropomorphic face… A devilish face, cast a shadow that spread across my closet doors in front of me.
I was like “well at least the car stopped and they went somewhere else” because another five minutes later it was silent.
Just when I thought the coast was clear, I heard the rickety glass screen door being pulled open from our front door. It was an incredibly heavy and loud outer-door… But I didn’t hear the actual wooden front door, or anything like the locking mechanisms, nothing like that. So I thought it was just the wind blew this the heavy glass door wide open, so abruptly.
After five minutes or so, I heard heavy footsteps in the house, spaced between at least 30 or 40 seconds.
They were coming up the stairs to the second floor where my bedroom was.
I used to sneak out and smoke pot with my neighborhood friends, so I knew the spots on the staircase to avoid and it seemed like whatever was coming up there, purposely stepped on the loudest parts of it…like they knew the house as I did.
Another five minutes in silence, I just think that I’m imagining it all, but then….I start hearing footsteps 30 seconds apart.
Heavy footsteps, taunting me, by stepping on the loudest parts of the sub-floor underneath the carpet of the second landing.
I tried to convince myself it was a dream, but I was too alert and conscious of what I was trying to summon.
I could not have slept that night if you paid me $1 million dollars.
I was wide awake and terrified.
So…these footsteps came down through the hallway, to my door and they stopped loudly
I’m thinking to myself “why won’t my dad get up? I want my mom get up.
Nor did my brothers awake nor my sister…aren’t they terrified too?’
10 minutes passed. I didn’t hear anything.
Then just as I was saying “phew” and wiping the sweat from my forehead; I heard three loud knocks; “boom, boom, boom.”
I was like ‘this is not happening right now!’
I tried to get up to turn the candles off and shred the Satanic photos I made of myself, but I’ve never been so afraid and I was unable to move.
“Boom boom boom!’
it was always three knocks… each set louder and louder, until at least 6 or 7 AM.
The next day, of course, I was still awake and only opened the door when I heard my family having breakfast.
I went downstairs and I literally shoved my older brother while he was sitting having eggs and hashbrowns at the table and I accosted him and I said “what the hell man? Why were you banging on my door all night?
He genuinely had no idea what I was talking about.
My dad‘s room was only 5 feet across the hall from where I was, and my sisters room was literally a foot away from my door to the left.
Nobody heard anything and they looked at me like I was crazy.
I felt I was crazy.
I had just stayed up all night listening to this thing pounding like a fireman or policeman at my door and that was when I first genuinely Said a prayer to God.
Two or three weeks later I casually picked up the old creepy guitar that was still in my closet….And I could play.
I mean, oh, boy could I play.
But there was nothing inside of me that was cheerful about this new gift that I was given.
And I always knew from then on out that it was a curse.
Since then, I have become a protégés guitar, bass player and singer.
But every time I write a new song, there is a shadow of my soul standing over me.
I try to think that, since I didn’t open the door for Satan; that God has rewarded me with the gift to play, but I know that my gift is a curse and I may either already be in hell or I am going that way soon.

Hi everyone!
i found out i have a big open spot in my bag for understable fairway drivers. currently i dont have any, after losing my leopard... one disc that i have really been wanting to try out, is the essence (an 8 speed), since i dont really want to buy a lepoard3 (want to test out new stuff, loved my leopard tho), so to pair with it, i was thinking an avenger ss.
recently i have really been wanting to try out some stuff from mvp, and i found the virus which looks pretty cool. the virus is a 9 speed, and i was thinking of getting it, but i feel like it would be to close to the essence (with the 1 difference in speed) if i bought both of them. currently all my other fairways are 7/9-speeds. so now i wonder if having an essence and a virus would be to close of an overlap, or not. could i bag both? or do i have to pick between avenger ss and essence vs. virus and leopard3?

I've been digging in to the history of the draft for the last few weeks, for fun, and I've come across really really interesting draft picks over the years! If people still keep reading, I want to make one of these a day, each day, until the draft. This is day number 7, so it's time to mock the...
Cincinnati Bengals
Mike Ferrell called Andre Smith the best high school o-line prospect since Orlando Pace. Rivals.com had him at the top tackle. He was considered to be the very best run blocker of a generation. He was *cannot miss* talent. He went to Alabama and became the fourth ever true freshman to start on the Alabama line. One service named him an all-American. His sophomore year, when Saban showed up, he won the Jacobs Blocking Trophy and was named first team all-SEC, and was a Playboy All-American. His junior year, he won the Outland Trophy, was named a unanimous All-American, and only allowed 6 QB pressures on 334 passing plays, in a season where he was only penalized twice. He made John Parker Wilson look good. He caught a pass. He was mocked at #1 in the draft the entire year.. Other than a QB needy team grabbing Stafford, nothing is stopping him from going 1st overall, right?
But the 2009 NFL draft rolls around, the Bengals grab Andre Smith at #6, and the next day, all of Cincinnati media acts like he’s an existential threat. Every headline is about the crazy risk that the Bengals took, as everyone offers crazy guesses what will happen.
What happened? How did we get here?
First, Smith got suspended from his bowl game for his contact with an agent. Back in a time when playing bowl games seemed to matter. Uh oh! He did some damage control, made the now foregone conclusion to declare for the draft, and hoped that people didn’t remember that on draft night. After all, he’s supposed to be a generational tackle.
Then the combine happened. Dude came in at 332 pounds, admitted he was out of shape, ran a 5.32 40 (incidentally, I’m in shape and I run a 5.34 40, neither here nor there)… and decided to run it without a shirt for some reason. Kind of an all-timer. You can see it here. https://bleacherreport.com/articles/1718615-andre-smiths-40-yard-dash-is-still-the-best-40-yard-dash. Why without a shirt? Why not? Despite his supposedly herculean strength, he kind of bombs the bench press (according to a lot of keyboard warriors who wouldn’t get close to his scores– and often lost in the noise is that having longer arms makes it harder to put up big bench press numbers– Smith was such a good college lineman in part because of his crazy long arms). He interviews poorly. He’s pretty obviously out of shape. So, he leaves.
And the responsible person he told that he was leaving… uh… well, he didn’t tell anyone he was leaving the combine early. The national story is “where’s Andre Smith? Did a UFO take him?” Far too late, he turns up later saying he left the combine early to prepare for his Pro Day. But he was a punchline and then he was missing, and that was the national narrative.
AL.com, which is obviously very pro-Bama, said that the question wasn’t if his draft stock fell, but by how much. BleacherReport had him now, not at 3, but at the third lineman in their final mock. The Guardian mocked him as the third lineman, and their writeup began “whoever takes Smith is taking a gamble.” Kiper put him at 13th, saying that he can’t manage his weight, which an LT needs to do. McShay mocked him to the Niners at 10th, saying that it would take a great coach like Mike Singletary to keep Andre motivated. (Can I please have McShay’s job?) Andre’s sure looking like he’s out of the top-10.
Then stories started coming out that he was pushing the scales to 370 between seasons. And then the long-awaited Pro Day happened, where he was going to shut everyone up. He didn’t– he didn’t leave half way through and he kept his shirt on for his 40. But he didn’t really do better beyond that.
Draft night happens and by then everyone knows Stafford is going to the Lions first. Then the Rams, who desperately need linemen help, are up. And they take Jason Smith, who’s never done a three point stance before, and he’s out of the league in four years. It was kind of unthinkable before the combine that Andre could fall even this far, but here we are. People are wondering about his character, his physical ability, how much he cares, his personality, everything.
But the Bengals snag the man at 6th! Despite everything that’s happened, they go “big man block good” and they decide to make it work. And are repaid in kind when Smith– well– holds out a month for more money and misses training camp. He failed to stay in game shape in the holdout, and broke his foot in a non-contact play before the season ever began.
He went on to have a meaningful career, he was the starter by his third year, went to a second contract with the Bengals, and started most of their games for five years in a row. Not the expectation at Bama, but better than the lineman taken above him. But the unbelievable saga of the combine, the jokes, the bad pro day, the slide, and the injury were an incredible spectacle and probably one of the most memorable Bengals picks in the last few decades.
Honorable mention: I think I’m going to bring up 1999 like four times this series– but the Bengals turned down 9 draft picks, including two firsts, in order to take the third QB off the board, Akili Smith. And while it was a reasonable pick at the time, the Bengals traded the farm to get Ki-Jana Carter, who suffered a career-altering injury just three plays into the first preseason game. Steve McNaire was one of the next picks.
Day 1 - The Cardinals make an unconventional pick at 8th
Day 2 - Falcons GM Norm van Brocklin likes movies
Day 3 - The Ravens select a QB off of some unique criteria
Day 4 - The Bills find that the three rules for a QB is that you don't get them wet, get them cold, or feed them after midnight
Day 5 - Jimmy Clausen
Day 6 - The Bears lose a Carla-Jean-Moss-amount in a coin-flip

Super late Part 2 of my vanilla/patchouli thunderdome! Link to part 1
​

• BPAL Snake Smut (Snake Oil and Smut with leather accord, cardamom, and 7-year aged patchouli.)

vs.

• BPAL Snake Oil (deep, rich earthy notes swirled with vegetal musks, sugared vanilla bean, and dark spices.) (Snake oil does not have patch listed as a note but I've heard people say there's patch in it so I'm including it. Also this is a bottle from 2022.)

Snake Smut, where do I begin, this stuff is so good. It's magical on my skin. Even when freshly applied, it is perfectly melded to the skin and has a "lived in" sort of feeling that other scents only reach during the dry down. The cardamom is a good balance of spicy and earthy, the leather well-worn and subtle, patch is present but blended in so well it's hard to pick out, and the musks blend it all into my skin. As it dries the cardamom steps down, and vanilla musk steps up. It becomes more like Snake Oil, but less powdery and sweeter + muskier. There is something biteable about this scent, take that as you will haha.
This is a scent for seduction, hedonism, and taking myself on dates. Overall: 100/100
Snake Oil goes on a bit powdery, but it's pleasant, not bathroom-powdery (it reminds me a tiny bit of Shalimar, except Shalimar goes unpleasant-powdery on my skin). It's a bit brighter than Snake Smut, less skin musky and more vanillic. I really adore it, it's a grown-up vanilla musk, with cozy powder and a hint of earthiness and spice (no spices listed in the notes but I do smell a subtle spiciness).
This is a scent for feeling elegant during a cozy night in. Overall: 90/100
Pitting anything against Snake Smut is unfair, given that it is a god tier scent in my collection, and the only thing I have ever bought a backup bottle of. Also, I am so sorry to sing such high-praises of a limited edition scent. Snake Smut wins!
​

• NAVA Mr. Hessian (Chai Spices of Ginger, Clove and Green Cardamom, Black Patchouli, Black Cedar, Sumatra Benzoin Resin, Vanilla Bean and Bourbon Vanille)

vs.

• Hex Witchboard (dark patchouli, amber, cardamom, vanilla)

Mr. Hessian opens with sweet spicy chai and a hefty dose of patch. I adore NAVA's patch, it reminds me of rich soil and tree roots in the best way. As it dries it gets sweeter and creamier. It truly feels like drinking a very rich chai in a cozy cabin. I love wearing this in the fall and winter (I always put a drop on my scarf). It makes me nostalgic for the winter of last year, when we had a lot of storms and I spent a lot of time doused in this scent.
This is a scent for coming home after along day of wicked deeds and getting cozy with some tea. 90/100
Witchboard opens with a huge cardamom note, and as it dries it sweetens and I get vanilla + patch. The patch goes really menthol as it dries on my skin, combined with the cardamom, it's almost metallic and it borders on giving me a headache. It's a very deep and spicy scent. Something about it just feels very dark and wicked. After more time, the amber comes out more and it gets sweeter and more vanillic. It's gorgeous and I want to love it so bad, but it's just a tiny bit too sharp/headachey for my tastes.
This is a scent for wicked deeds at night (except I had to go home early bc I had a headache and I'm sad about it). 70/100
Mr. Hessian wins! If it weren't for the headache, this would have been a very tough choice.
​

• NAVA Voyageur (Black Patchouli, White Patchouli, Vanilla Bean Liqueur, Hinoki Wood, Incense Smoke accord, Smoked Black Clove Bud with Mahogany wood and Agar wood, Black Agar Oudh blend essence and aged whole Madagascar vanilla beans)

vs.

• BPAL The Red Ribbon (Red silken musk, sweet patchouli, ho wood, amber velvet, parchment, bourbon vanilla, and goat’s milk accord)

Voyageur is very smoky, with spiced black patchouli. There's more wood notes as it dries down, NAVA's oud reads pretty smoky to me as well. Smoke notes tend to go barbeque sauce on me, and this aaalmost does, but there is a subtle vanilla sweetness in the drydown that saves it from BBQ. The drydown is lovely, spicy, sweet vanilla and patch. At this stage it feels like a darker, punkier sibling to Mr. Hessian.
This is a scent for late-night motorcycle rides. Overall: 80/100
The Red Ribbon smells a bit like caramel when first applied. It then turns into what I can only describe as "luxurious spiced Christmas candle". It is creamy, rich, spicy, and reminds me of the holidays. As it dries there is kinda of a discordance between red musk, cream and incense. I can’t tell which note is the culprit, but it smells like a new age shop + a public restroom… after abt an hour the bathroom-ness goes away, and it’s just red musk + rich spice. It's pleasant at the end but the first hour is not worth it.
New age shop musk and… spicy bathroom powder Overall: 40/100
It's very clear, Voyageur wins!
​

• NAVA Etherian Ambre (Amber (NA Studio Accord), Cola Root, Sarsaparilla Root, Black Patchouli Wood, White Vetiver, Bastet’s Amber Absolute, Vanilla Pod, Cacao Bean and Australian Sandalwood)

vs.

• Alkemia Trick or Treat (black licorice, mandarin orange peel, caramelized brown sugar, bourbon vanilla, candied ginger, tonka bean, blonde patchouli, cedar tips, oakmoss, and sandalwood)

Etherian Ambre starts off with a gorgeous slightly piney amber note (I am not familiar with either the NA studio amber or Bastet amber so cannot tell them apart, honestly it reminds me a bit of Solstice Scents Amber Coeur), with a lot of things in the background, it's complex but really well blended. I had to take a second to figure out what I was smelling because there is so much going on. The cola and sarsparilla notes are like drinking a sweet, spicy, vanilla cola with a lemon wedge in it (might be the piney-amber giving me a citrus impression). I don't really get any patch, but honestly I don't think I'd be able to tell it apart from the cola/sarsparilla/literally everything else. As it dries, it's pretty well-balanced between amber and cola. I love me some cola-scents, and this might give Prestosuchus a run for its money because I think I prefer this amber over the Limestone amber.
This is a scent for when you wish you were drinking HOT DR PEPPER inside of a cozy and ancient hollowed out pine tree. This will get a lot of wear come fall/winter. Overall: 90/100
As for Trick or Treat, I was not expecting these to be at all similar going in, but I think the cola/sarsparilla of Etherian Ambre and liquorice of this give them a similar feel, at least initially. This is a brighter, more herbal and citrusy scent, with no amber. It feels less like cola and more like a vanilla-ginger-lemonade concoction. As it dries the orange-peel/ginger chills out, the background notes show themselves. It's vanillic and woodsy, with a hefty herbal dose of black liquorice, and while it's very sweet, the oakmoss keeps it from smelling entirely like a dessert. This is a rare occasion where oakmoss has played well with my skin and not overtaken everything. I never thought I'd describe liquorice as being sexy, but this scent is a bit sexy.
This is a scent for when you feel mysterious and elegant, but also a little biteable. Overall: 85/100
I cannot resist cola scents, Etherian Ambre wins!

F/29 years old/5'7/128 lbs/medications: hydroxyzine/no health conditions but I'm 36 weeks pregnant
Four weeks ago I was diagnosed with a stress fracture in my 2nd and 3rd metatarsals. Ortho put me in an aircast walking boot and said he'd follow up with x-rays in 4 weeks. I have still been experiencing a lot of pain & swelling over the past 4 weeks, even with the boot on. Yesterday I got some new x-rays done and confirmed the stress fractures are not healing. He put me on crutches yesterday and said absolutely no weight bearing. If my foot isn't healing in another 4 weeks, I will likely need surgery after the baby comes.
I really would like to avoid surgery. What can I do to speed up bone healing? Is it normal for pregnancy to delay bone healing, even for stress fractures?

https://highlanderforces.com/collections/packs/products/forces-rucksack-44l?variant=43452686041315
​
There is a 33L pack as well would that be more suitable? I literally only want this thing to ruck with and nothing else.
I fill my bag with lots of old clothes, then stick a 10KG dumbbell wrapped in more clothes & bubble rap on the top.
The last 2 bags I have used the zips have given out, this thing doesn't need zips to stop everything falling out, if any zips break on this bag it won't matter.
​
Any reason why I could not use this?
​
I've asked on here before but you all seem to be American and any pack suggestions I get are £100+ when I try to buy them here in Scotland.

hydrocodone is the only pain killer that takes away my pain. i herniated a disc in my spine in december and with my debilitating and endless endometriosis cramps, it’s hell more often than not. i was prescribed tramadol, which is another opioid, but it only worked for like an hour at a time
after my accident, i mentioned to my doctor how the ER gave me hydrocodone so that i could walk and be discharged. despite them giving me morphine and whatever else they put in my IV, hydrocodone took the pain away within 20 minutes and i was able to walk out of the ER, and even take a shower at home before it wore off. my doctor offered to prescribe me it, but i declined at the time cause i didn’t know how terrible the pain was going to get when i was on my period
my first period after the accident knocked me on my ass. at first i thought that i had bulged the disc more somehow but then my PT exercises weren’t helping and i could barely do them anyways cause of my cramps. and that first period lasted 3 weeks (my cycle is kind of backwards right now; bleeding for 3 weeks, not bleeding for 1 week). but i had my tramadol and a prescribed anti-inflammatory that made the pain bearable
a few weeks ago, i ran out of my tramadol. i was completely unmedicated. i did send a request for my prescriber to send another prescription but they denied it. the pain was making me bed ridden, more so than usual. for context, my dad is a drug addict in recovery, like a year sober i think. i called him one day and he asked how i was and i told him how much pain i was in and how i really wish that i had hydrocodone so that i could be functional again. he sympathized with me and that was that
he drove down to visit like a week or two later and while we were at dinner, he passes me a folded up paper towel and tells me to put it in my purse. i was confused and asked what it was and he said it was the pills i needed. i looked and he got me like 7 hydrocodone pills. as a drug addict, he obviously has connections. i was stoked. but my husband was sitting next to me and said “you really shouldn’t take those”. he kept getting more and more adamant that i shouldn’t take them. i completely disagreed. my dad would never give me any sketchy drugs, i trusted him completely. so i held off on taking them to appease my husband and i kept being in pain. one day was particularly bad, but i had planned to get some stuff done so i took half of a pill and it worked within 20 minutes like usual. i felt fucking fantastic. zero pain. i even called my dad and said “they worked!” he was excited too. i told my husband that i took some and he wasn’t thrilled, but he wasn’t completely against it since i was up and about getting things done
so i only took like 2 or 3 of those pills in a week when i went to an appointment with my doctor to discuss pain management. i told her that my tramadol ran out and i elaborated on the amount of pain i was in on a daily basis due to my period and spine. she agreed to prescribe me a 7 day prescription of hydrocodone. at the time, she asked me routine questions about drug abuse and i answered all of them no cause in my head, i kinda forgot that the pills that my dad gave me were illegal. the panic set in when she had me do a urine sample. obviously it was going to come back positive as i had taken a pill the day before
luckily, the pharmacy filled my prescription within 45 minutes so i got the pills. and now i’m freaking out cause she told me to go back for more once i’m out, but she’s gonna know that i had hydrocodone in my system before i got the prescription! but i’m not abusing the drug. i’m using it solely for pain management. i never take more than one a day and i only take it when i’m in immense pain. like i’ve been in pain all day today but i haven’t taken one today cause it’s bearable right now. i’m trying to prolong the pills for the really bad days. i don’t want her to think that i’m irresponsible with this drug. i need it. i can’t go back to being immobile most of my days. i need to be able to function, and this is the only drug that does that
and my siblings and husband and friends think that because addiction runs in my family that i’m going to become an addict as well. i’m not. it’s irritating justifying my use of this drug to them (not the doctor) when i’m not doing anything wrong

Hi all, I'm aiming to self publish by the end of the year and I'd love to hear some reactions to my opening chapter. Thanks for your time.
---------------------------------------------------------
The great bull dropped a hoof in the grass, splattering mud upon its lower leg. A dark nose lowered to the ground and sniffed at the foliage, before lazily grabbing a mouthful and chewing contentedly. A second creature, its fur lighter brown, stepped beside the first, and the bull lowed a greeting to his mate. Seven feet tall at the shoulder, and weighing nearly a ton, the aurochs were the largest cattle that had ever existed.
Obscured by nearby foliage, the paw of a mammalian hunter lightly stepped in the mud. Intelligent amber eyes regarded the aurochs, joined a moment later by a second pair, the carnivore’s hunting partner. The two painted wolves walked on tall, spindly legs, absorbed auditory information through wide, spoon-shaped ears, and, most strikingly, looked as if their bodies had been splashed with a mosaic of tan, black, and white hues – the inspiration for their namesake. The wolves were smaller than the immense cattle, standing only a couple of feet tall – but they were exceptional hunters.
The second of the pair stepped forward, snapping a twig under its paw. The aurochs looked up, alert. The male shook his head, displaying his horns.
Their cover blown, the wolves burst from the undergrowth, rushing the aurochs. The cattle bellowed in surprise, and the male rose to his hind legs, bringing his front hooves crashing down. The nimble predators leapt out of harm’s way, yipping and harassing their prey.
A howl distracted the canines, and they instantly perked up. A third wolf emerged from the bushes behind the aurochs – though she was much larger, standing even taller than the cattle. The pups yipped in excitement – this was the alpha, their mother. With her joining the hunt, their prey stood no chance.
“Oi! Trentus!” A man sitting atop the bull eyed the wolves in disgust. “Your mutts are harassing my cows again! Get them under control, for once!”
The mother wolf trotted past the two aurochs, who paid her no mind, and sternly nudged her puppies away. A moment later, a young boy, no older than eleven, rushed to the scene. “Sorry!” he called. “It won’t happen again!”
The aurochs rider simply rolled his eyes and steered the cattle forward, continuing to till the field.
The boy, dressed in simple rags, his skin lying somewhere between truly dark and truly light, turned his attention to the two smaller dogs, which were sitting sheepishly in their mother’s shadow. “Fenrir! Amarok!” Trentus said sternly, and the puppies shrank at the reprimand. “You know you’re not supposed to chase the aurochs!” Trentus managed to keep his stern façade for a few more seconds before he dropped to his knees and widened his arms. “All right, that’s enough. You’re still good dogs!”
The two animals merrily bounded into him, knocking the laughing boy over. As Trentus attempted to push the puppies off, their gargantuan mother tenderly lowered her head and sniffed the much smaller human. Trentus fearlessly lifted his arms and rubbed the canine’s ears. “Yes, Lupa, you were a good girl. Thanks for keeping them out of trouble.”
Seemingly satisfied, Lupa lifted her head and walked away from the smaller three, across the lush green fields of Kalosi. Modest wooden houses and barns in the center of the settlement were surrounded on all sides by fields of tropical crops, ranging from sugarcane and pineapple to muddy ponds of taro. Encompassing the entire community was thick jungle, unbroken save for a small dirt road, used for bringing goods in and out.
Mirovia was oft regarded as a vast, wild, and exotic expanse, with any civilized settlements being few and far between. All but the largest cities ran the risk of being swallowed by nature. Even by these standards, Kalosi was small and isolated. A particularly tiny town, in the middle of what most scholars referred to as ‘nowhere,’ it was born due to its proximity to a fresh spring that created ideal conditions for growing certain crops. Outsiders often found the thought of living in such an isolated region stifling, but most of Kalosi’s residents enjoyed a peaceful existence alongside nature.
Trentus ran across the fields, the dogs Amarok and Fenrir on his heels. Older residents walked around him: gathering crops, hauling cargo on domesticated aurochs, or scattering food to the colorful microraptors that ran beneath their feet. Larger, adult painted wolves strolled along the jungle’s edge, following the commands of men and women armed with crossbows: security, to ensure that roving predators thought twice before paying a visit.
“Trentus!” a stern voice rang out. Now it was the boy’s turn to sheepishly shrink. He meandered towards a small pond, where farmers were pulling taro plants from the knee-deep water. One of these was a middle-aged woman, similar features belying relation to Trentus. Lupa the great wolf lay in a sunny patch of grass beside the pond.
“Yes, mom?” Trentus asked.
The woman placed her hands on her hips. “What are you doing, running around already? Don’t you have work to do?”
“I already completed my section of the harvest!”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes! Five baskets’ full! I worked very hard.” Trentus pouted at her skepticism.
Anai’s frown turned to a smile, and she relaxed. “Okay, I’m sorry for pestering you. You’re a very good worker, you know that?”
“So I can go play?” he asked impatiently, gesturing at his dogs.
“Yes,” said Anai with a grin. “And how are the pups behaving today?”
“Not very well,” Trentus admitted. “They were bothering the aurochs again. Lupa had to step in.” The larger wolf raised her head lazily at the mention of her name.
Anai chuckled. “Don’t worry about that. Lupa’s the best painted wolf I’ve ever seen. She’ll straighten those two pups out, and they’ll turn into very responsible adults.” She wiped her hands dry on her shirt, stepped out of the pond, and ruffled her son’s hair. “Kind of like someone else I know, eh?” Trentus grumbled as he unsuccessfully tried to dodge her touch, and the woman then gave Lupa a friendly scratch behind the ears, who thumped her tail in appreciation. “While learning proper training for your dogs is important, Trentus, much more important to me is that you continue to grow your bond with them. Remember to always be kind to animals, and they’ll repay you in loyalty and kindness themselves. That’s how people became friends with these wolves, after all: we feed and take care of them, and in return they’re our companions, and help protect the village.”
Trentus smirked and crossed his arms. “I know this, mom. And I’m already great friends with Fenrir and Amarok. Just you wait – once they’re grown and large enough to ride, I’m going to join the beast hunts to fight off monsters and protect the town!”
Anai bit her lip and looked down at this. “What’s wrong?” Trentus pushed. “Look, I know you don’t like the beast hunts, but they’re for a good reason!”
“You know how I feel about the culls,” she said quietly. “And you know I don’t agree with them.”
“But if they’re helping–”
“The culls don’t target individual creatures that have attacked villages. They target entire species of animal, including creatures that have never harassed a person before. Hunters break into dens, attack babies, and use this as an excuse to kill the mother when she tries to protect her children. The entire practice is barbaric. Which side do you think are the real monsters in this scenario, Trentus?”
Trentus had raised his hands placatively, trying to stop his mother from falling into a rant. “Okay, okay, I get it. I won’t talk about it anymore.”
Anai sighed. “Just promise me you’ll keep in mind, Trentus, that people used to see our painted wolves as bloodthirsty beasts before we learned we could tame them. Beast hunts in the past would target and kill all the wolves they could find – including the puppies.”
Trentus stared at his two companions. “Seriously?”
“Yes. I think a lot of animals are deeper and more intelligent than people believe – what we call monsters may have, well, a soul.” Anai locked eyes with her son. “But don’t be mistaken, Trentus. Animals may not be evil, but they can be very, very dangerous. Any beast you find in the wild is not automatically going to be your friend – it may take time and lots of work to gain a beast’s loyalty, if it can be gained at all.” She sighed. “So yes, the danger is very real. I just think there are ways of handling it besides violence.”
Anai shook her head and smiled at her son. “Sorry if I got too serious there. Are you going to spend the rest of your day playing with your dogs?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Great. Have fun!” Trentus began to scamper off, when she called him back. “Wait, Trentus! I made you a pack!” She pointed to a small hide pouch in the grass, tied to a belt. “There are snacks inside, and veris leaves in case you get a scrape.”
“Thanks, mom!” Trentus tied the pack around his waist and took off running, Fenrir and Amarok bounding after him.
​
----------
​
The sun sunk behind emerald hills, casting long shadows on the town of Kalosi and bathing its fields in brilliant orange light.
Atop a watchtower on the settlement’s edge, a sentry placed an oliphant horn to their lips and let out a long, low blow. Any farmers still out in the fields looked up at this, some sighing in relief. Trentus, sitting on a log near the forest’s edge as he sketched one of the town’s domestic microraptors, sighed instead in disappointment. His model, a colorful bird-like creature pecking the ground, squawked in surprise.
The sun was falling, and soon it would be too dark to continue their work. Furthermore, the jungle’s carnivores became active at night, and no one wanted to contend with them. On the city’s perimeter, the guards chatted and laughed as they headed towards the town, their great painted wolves trotting behind them.
“Trentus! Time to come inside!” The boy’s mother waved from across the field.
“Okay! I’m coming!” Trentus closed his sketchbook, and his four-winged model skittered for the nearest tree, scaling the bark to roost for the night. Trentus called for his two wolves, who were lounging nearby, and they ran for the houses on the other side of the fields. Ensuring he was coming, Anai turned back to the buildings with a smile.
Halfway to the houses, Trentus froze. “Ah! My pouch!” He looked back and saw the bag leaning against the log he had been using. He sprinted back to retrieve it, the confused dogs in tow.
Trentus reached the jungle’s edge and secured the bag around his waist. Before he could do anything more, however, the sound of growling entered his ears. Trentus stared at Fenrir and Amarok in surprise, who were snarling at the darkness of the trees, their hackles raised to full height.
Trentus peered into the forest, whose thick canopy blocked nearly all of dusk’s dim light. Trentus shivered, feeling as if ice water were trickling down his spine.
Trentus tried to control his breathing. Ever so slowly, he took one step back. Then two. His eyes never left the void of shadow that the wolves were focused on.
One of the guards, halfway to the village, glanced back and noticed the boy. “Hey, you! Kid! We’re heading in for the night, c’mon!”
Trentus flinched at the call, but didn’t dare to tear his eyes from the undergrowth. He took another step backwards.
The guard groaned and turned to her companions. “I’ve got this. You go on.” She started jogging towards Trentus.
The boy’s eyes widened as he saw the jungle shadows shift. His breaths grew quick and panicky. “Amarok,” he squeaked. “Fenrir. Come here.”
“Kid! What are you doing?” The guard’s cry was still distant, though growing closer.
The shadows exploded from the foliage, a dark mass filling Trentus’ vision. He reactively collapsed, which inadvertently saved him as the entity sailed overhead. Fenrir and Amarok snarled and leapt onto the mass, latching onto its side and biting down. The beast unleashed a deep, mammalian yowl.
“Moorbeast!” The guard screamed.
Trentus’ mind raced. The moorbeast cat. He had heard of these. Even glimpsed one, when he was eight. One had wandered uncomfortably close to the village when farmers were still in the fields. He had heard a commotion, and looked up in time to see the guards chase a giant black cat into the trees. That event was odd, though. The cats were usually nocturnal. They preferred to hunt at night.
Or at dusk.
Trentus stared in horror as the great black beast leapt up and down, trying to shake the young wolves off. The creature was enormous, standing nearly ten feet tall at the shoulder. Its visage was lynx-like, with pointed ears, a short tail, and jet-black spots that could be made out even against its dark pelt. Far more muscular than a standard lynx, however, the beast was squatter and incredibly bulky, with hardly any neck and a muscular hunch atop its shoulders. Trentus heard shouting, and saw the contingent of guards and full-grown wolves charging in their direction.
The moorbeast managed to reach far enough behind itself to grab Amarok in its jaws, and flung the small dog to the ground. Trentus gasped in terror. Amarok whimpered and unsuccessfully tried to stand, as the great beast advanced upon him.
An adult wolf bolted across the field, charging past the others, and rammed into the cat. The moorbeast was thrown off course, the impact also jarring off Fenrir, who ran to his brother’s side. Lupa positioned herself between the cat and her puppies, staring down her foe. The moorbeast hissed. The full-grown wolf was just as long as the cat, but shorter and nowhere near as bulky. The dogs were built for agility, while the moorbeast was built for taking down large prey. Trentus knew a one-on-one fight wasn’t ideal, but reinforcements were coming.
The cat snarled again, and charged Lupa. She conceded, latching her jaws around the moorbeast’s neck as the larger beast fought to throw her to the ground. Trentus realized he was far too close to the battle and hastily scrambled backwards, towards the treeline. He struggled to rise but stumbled as his foot became tangled in vines. He frantically fought to free himself.
The moorbeast was still attempting to wrap its jaws around Lupa’s neck when an arrow hit its shoulder. The creature yowled, ripped away from the wolf, and turned to the town. The guards were now close enough to start firing, their wolves mere seconds away.
Trentus managed to wrench his foot free, and stumbled to his feet.
Several more dogs arrived, snapping and snarling at the cat. Sensing it was outnumbered, the animal hissed and stepped backwards. As more arrows sailed overhead, it turned back to the forest, locking eyes with the only thing standing between it and shelter.
“Run!” Trentus heard the guard scream. He did.
The moorbeast charged after him, and both were swallowed by the foliage.
Calls of screaming guards and barking dogs were drowned out in Trentus’ ears, replaced only by the sound of the great beast crashing through greenery behind him. Trentus panted in terror as he ducked beneath gnarled roots and weaved between draping vines. His small size was the only thing saving him from certain death, as the feline had to pause for precious seconds to tear through each obstacle.
Near blinded by fear and the fading light, Trentus couldn’t see the plant-covered cliff edge until the ground vanished beneath him, and he was tumbling down a slope. The moorbeast leapt after him and found itself freefalling as well. Trentus landed in a patch of brambles, leaves and stems scratching at his face. He heard a thud as the cat landed in the mud a few feet away. As it slowly clambered to its feet, the boy quickly pushed further into the bushes, hitting the cliff wall. He located a small enclave in the rock face, and squeezed as deeply into it as he could. Breathlessly, Trentus watched the great beast rise to its full height. Its movements were slow, as if the fall had harmed it. The arrow still sprouted from its right shoulder.
As his eyes adjusted to the dark space, Trentus saw that the cliff face surrounded them on all sides, and he realized he had fallen into a pit, one over thirty feet deep. Small streams of water trickled into the hole, leaving the floor damp and muddy before continuing deeper into the earth through a small crack in the wall. Excellent – now even if he wasn’t killed by the cat, he’d have to scale a thirty-foot slope.
He focused back on the moorbeast. Its breathing was laborious, its head hung low. The animal seemed to be in pain. As he watched it, the cat suddenly turned to face Trentus. He stifled a gasp.
The animal limped to the brambles and sniffed the plants that had broken Trentus’ fall. It followed the scent to the enclave. Trentus pushed as far back into it as he could, closing his eyes out of fear. When he opened them again, the moorbeast was staring directly at him.
Trentus gasped, and the cat stuck a paw into the enclave, trying to reach him. “No! Get back!” Trentus kicked at the paw, and the moorbeast retracted it, before trying to squeeze its head into the hole, as if it thought its bulk would fit. “I said go!” Trentus planted a kick directly on its face, and the cat pulled back with a grumble. Trentus watched as the animal walked through the brambles again, paced a couple of times around the pit’s walls, and paused to lap at the stream running through the center. After this, the animal headed back to Trentus’ enclave, and peered in once more.
“I – said – go!” Trentus screamed, and delivered another kick to the peering face. The cat gave another unhappy yowl, and limped to the far side of the pit. Trentus watched as it regarded the cliff face, before it crouched and leapt. The beast scrambled at the wall, but its strength seemed to give out, and it fell back to the ground, mud and dirt cascading over it. The cat shook the dirt off and leapt again, scrambling for purchase, but again collapsed, landing on its side. Trentus watched as dark mass’s side rose and fell with its breath. It was another full minute before the cat moved further. It painfully rose to its feet, looking ever weaker, and once more plodded to the stream. It lapped at the water, took one last glance towards Trentus, and flopped onto its side.
Trentus leaned against the stone. He couldn’t go out there, not with that monster, and even if he could, how would he escape? The walls were steep, slick, and didn’t look to have any good handholds. He absentmindedly wondered if this was once dug as a hunting pit, but then abandoned or forgotten.
Exhausted both mentally and physically, Trentus closed his eyes and felt sleep quickly overtake him.

Timestamp
No April Fools, just spring cleaning. 😅
Happy to upload more pics upon request.

KBDFans OG60 WK Starry Black

• PC and FR4 plates. Built once with PC plate and only used a few days. Amazing feel and sound for the price. I did apply the force break mod, which helped a lot on this board. I didn't touch the included stabs. Will ship with everything in original packaging.
• $215 shipped (I paid $288.25 shipped).

Exclusive E7-V2 Burgundy Red

• Hotswap PCB, FR4 plate, aluminum weight and aluminum backplate. Used for a few months. Insanely high-quality board IMO, with unique leaf spring + gasket mount system, and sweet RGB effect on the dotted "7" logo. Ano is flawless and looks even better in person. Will ship with everything in original packaging.
• $300 shipped (I paid $523 shipped).

Drop + Matt3o MT3 3277 (Base, Extras, Red Accent, Turquoise Accent)

• Bought from Drop and used for a couple months. Prefer bundling, but may consider splitting. Shipped in bags.
• $120 shipped (I paid $165.85 shipped).

Drop MT3 Black-on-White

• Bought from Drop and only used for a few weeks. Shipped in bags.
• $70 shipped (I paid $94.16 shipped, after a $22 Drop promo).

Trash Linear Switches x 60

• Super smooth stock linear. On the louder and clackier end, IMO.
• $25 shipped (I paid $32.12 shipped).

KDS Solarized Dark (Base + Colorized)

• Only used for a day. Was recently on sale on Kono, so I priced it below that sale price. Shipped in bags.
• $60 shipped (I paid $104.34, recent sale price was $93.35 shipped).

KeebMonkey MAC Modular Artisan Keycap (White)

• I'll throw this in for free with any purchases above, if you want.
• $15 shipped (I paid $20 shipped).

Could this spell also physically wounds,mental and can this spell augment specific bodily attributes?
Gypsy Healing Spell
Ingredients
2 white candles ball of string boline Description
The Gypsies used the figure of the pentagram as a healing symbol in a special healing ritual intended to sever illness from the body. This spell requires cutting string close to the recipient’s body, so be very careful when using your boline. Spell Casting

1. Lay the person suffering from illness out flat on a bed or a comfortable place on the floor. Have them positioned spread eagle on their back.
   
2. Place three white candles decoratively nearby and light them.
   
3. Have your volunteer bite one end of the string. Roll the ball out until it traces a line to their right foot. Cut the string loose from the ball. Have the volunteer hold the strand tight between their toes. Sever the string with your boline.
   
4. Run the string from their right foot to their left hand. Have them hold the string taut between their fingers and toes. Sever the string with your boline.
   
5. Run the string from their left hand to their right hand. Have them hold the string taut between their fingers. Sever the string with your boline.
   
6. Run the string from their right hand to their left foot. Have them hold the string taut between their fingers and toes. Sever the string with your boline.
   
7. Run the final length of string from their left foot to their face. Cut the string loose from the ball. Have your volunteer bite the end of the string to hold it taut. Sever the string with your boline.
   
8. Discard of the string remains in an open fire
   

One Piece Fanfiction Idea.
So ive had this idea for awhile now and the Idea is What if Luffy and Robin had a 7 year old son.
Now please hear me out as I'm about to explain how this happened.
So in one peice we all know about Devil Fruits and those who eat them gain powers at the cost of there ability to swim.
The Government decided to do an experiment, One that if worked could change the way they thought of Devil Fruits forever!,
They decided to make a child between 2 Devil Fruit Users, 1 male and 1 female, the devil fruit user tho would have no idea of this happening and would have no idea of the child.
The devil fruit users they decided appon would be Luffy D Monkey and Nico Robin.
They decided to make this child through the Devil Fruit Users blood, they would gain Luffys not long After he gained his Devil Fruit via his Grandfather Garp D Monkey who would only know that the Government wanted the blood for research purposeses and not knowing that they would be actually making a child who would be his Great Grandson.
For Nico Robin tho let's say that the Government sent Admiral Kuzan after her to gain some blood, they fight Admiral Kuzan injers her and quickly gains some of her blood after she passes out, now at this time the government decided to leave Nico Robin free so she gets away confused of course but non the less happy they left her alone probably thinking they thought her dead.
Now we all know that after eating a Devil Fruit the user of said Devil Fruit had there fertility cut down and that there children wouldn't gain any powers, but the government decided differently due them wanting a powerful Devil Fruit User so after years of testing they manage to create a baby boy with the Powers of the 2 Devil Fruit Users combined.
Tho child born through the normal means of Devil Fruit Users stays the same as cannon.
7 years later the boy would be taught to read the language that only Nico Robin can read due to the government wanting the boy to be able to control the weapon that we all know of.
Sadly the boy escapes and destroys all the information about how they made him making sure they can never do what they did to him again.
His dream is to find his parents.
The boy manages to get Water 7 just after Luffy and the Crew bring back robin and 1 week before they have to leave.
Luffy meets the boy not knowing he's his son, they talk and like each other as they have similar personalitys.
Later on while mucking about Luffy is shocked to find that the kid has similar powers to himself and Robin but Luffy being Luffy only thinks that it's so cool that the kid has similar powers to himself and Robin and that he should join his crew.
He joins the crew.
Now I would also like to mention that this Fanfiction will also be Luffy x Robin.
Also due to Franky misunderstanding the situation built a captains quarters into the ship for both Luffy and Robin to stay in as well as a small seprate room for there son.
Also due to Luffy having a son I think he'd act a bit more Mature and still be himself as in cannon but he'd take life a bit more seriously as he would care for his son and Robin as she's the mother of his child.
He'd also wear a black pirate captains coat with his pirate flag logo on the back.
Information on the Robin and Luffys child.
Name. Ash D . (Becomes Ash D Monkey after found out he's Luffys and Robins son)
Age. 7
Height. 3 foot 11 Inches
Eye couler. Blue, (same Blue as Robins)
Hair couler Black, (same Black as Luffys)
Skin couler. a mixture between Robin and Luffys
Ash looks like a young Luffy
Devil Fruit Power. a mixture between Robin and Luffys
Personality. Similar to Luffys but he's smart as Robin herself but just a bit less so and he also loves reading and Meat.
If you stayed to read all of this then thank you. I really hope someone does this Idea.

You use Darci to fill in any shortcomings in your pve loadout in a consistent, reliable manner.

"Jack of all trades..."

With so many weapons to choose from, you may notice there are times where your loadout can feel lacking in certain areas, such as range, boss damage, and crowd clear, but with Darci, that can change. By using this exotic, instead of getting a heavy weapon, you're instead granted a third, multi-purpose special weapon that does a few things-

• consistent long range precision damage to deal with snipers / ads outside your effective range,
• acceptable boss damage when personal assistant is procced,
• crowd clear with the literally free jolt applied when using the weapon.

All of which is surprisingly helpful when you take into account Darci's pretty respectable ammo reserve of 23 rounds at base before ammo mods; just a little over 3 mags with 7 rounds per mag, meaning you don't have to worry if you miss a few shots during dps, and you don't have to think twice using rounds on ads in any scenario; ammo is prevalent and rounds are cheap, use them (not to say it's impossible to run out, just be reasonable you'll be fine.) Now you might be thinking "wow this is so good I'm gonna throw on darci and 1v1 rhulk" well maybe that's a bit much, but you get the idea; See, while the world's most lethal ruler's good and all, it's got its own shortcomings,

"...Master of none"

Darci, despite all the nice things I've just said, still fits the description of a third, multi purpose special weapon instead of a heavy, emphasis on "special weapon" here, and it shows-

• it lacks the extreme crowd control of rockets, grenade launchers and machine guns
• the boss damage of linear fusion rifles and swords
• you're literally taking up your exotic weapon slot for a high tech measuring stick

there are so many weapons that can do what it does but better (like WAY better,) but that's not the point I'm trying to make; Darci is used to make your primary loadout acceptable in any situation; you could be using a sidearm and a glaive with no reach and Darci would do the rest at range. pulse + autorifle? Darci's got crowd clear. two snipers and a breach gl? why not, go for it. hell you could be using double bows and it'd still be okay, just because the whole point of Darci is to cover the bases of your kit (alongside measure range)
There are so many builds that overshadow what Darci does but better, so many loadouts and setups that invalidate it that it's not even funny, and that's okay. Not every exotic has to be the meta or a must-use or whatever, sometimes all is has to do is be different, and that's enough.
TL;DR Darci lets you use weird shit and get away with it, throw it on if your kit doesn't feel complete and away you go.
(if I goofed on any information, please let me know- I've got zero sleep under my belt rn.)

We took all the clean towels and covered the macabre paintings and collapsed into bed.
That night I had the worst sleep paralysis episode I had ever had.
I just remember that I was sitting up in bed, looking at the door to our room because something was behind the door that made me bolt up and start sweating, despite the brumal chill that came over the room.
The sound of as like a cat scratching to be let inside.
Suddenly the door burst open violently and there was an apparition of an elderly woman in a pure white evening gown.
She was levitating about a couple feet off the ground. Her eyes were white like a severely blind old dog.
Below her there were snake like lizards that made figure eights, chasing each others tails in some ritualistic undulating circle.
The apparition floated to the foot of my bed. Her arms were outstretched in front of her, shoulder height like Frankenstein and the lizards followed her wherever she went.
The old woman began shrieking like a banshee and the room filled with blinding white light.
Next I’m laying in bed screaming and Carolina is shaking me out of my vivid and lucid sleep paralysis.
She was terrified.
I sprung out of bed and ran to the door to see if it was still locked.
We tried to shrug it off and return to bed but the room was so I cold I was expecting to see my own breath.
Carolina pointed out that something sounded like it was scratching the window lightly and a distended humanoid shadow was cast across the wall.
I opened the curtains to see if it may be hail making the noise as we were way too high up for it to be anything else.
The shadow figure would vanish each time I yanked the blinds open but it and the scratching would manifest again a few minutes later each time.
The thermostat said the room was 80 degrees and we had the cranked to no avail. It would get progressively colder and colder each night until exactly sunrise and then it seemed the heater would finally function properly.
So, I gave up on sleeping but my girlfriend slept well into the afternoon.
I called down for more towels but nobody came so after an hour I took the one down that we had hung over easily the must unnerving painting in the whole room.
Just above the toilet was the saddest sack of shit wino clown that appeared to have the wounds of Christ in its wrists and of course, just behind the clown was like a wendigo or skinwalker entity that I hadn’t noticed initially.
Regarding the painting, my girlfriend took pictures of all of them just because she knew that no one back home would believe that they were real. Also, they were so complicated that it’s truly hard to describe exactly what was going on in each one. The best comparison I could make was if Hieronymus Bosch used oil paints and charcoal on an average sized canvas and had a hard on for clowns.
After a year or so, she and I both felt that the photos of the paintings should be deleted as we both experienced frequent sleep paralysis the following year or so. Part of me regrets that decision.
Oh well.
It was 2016 so it didn’t help that it was that year where disturbing clowns were popping up all over to the point where McDonald’s nixed Ronald McDonald for good.
So, there I am in the shower with my back to Clowny McAntichrist and I’m feeling distinctly like I’m being watched.
I allow myself to revisit my nightmare from the night before but suddenly there was only one thing I could think about…
The disembodied, Krusty the Clown cartoonish laughter that suddenly manifested near my right ear.
I yanked the shower in the direction I thought was off and ended up scalding my neck and butt and almost completely ate it.
I pulled the shower curtain open from the other side and searched the entire room for whatever made that noise.
At this point, I was convinced that it was my turn to go crazy seeing as my older brother lost his mind around the same age. That’s another story but he is a homeless schizophrenic meth who talks to himself and went full on Syd Barret with out any prior indication of mental health problems.
Heartbreaking as my brothers descent into madness was, I was selfishly more afraid of waking up one day just as insane as he is.
I couldn’t tell Carolina what I was experiencing. If I was losing it, she is the last one I would want to find out about it.
We went to a dinner show thing at a Japanese restaurant called Ichiban.
Our cook was awful.