#and figure out how to divide my time accordingly

[asimplearchivist]

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓛𝓲𝓫𝓻𝓪𝓻𝔂

𝐂𝐇. 𝐕𝐈𝐈 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍, 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍. 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐕 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓.

[𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓽'𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽] [ 𝐏𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐃𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ] [ AO3 | SPOTIFY | PINTEREST ] summary ✨ ⤏ keeping herself busy will only get eliana so far. she should've known better. pairing(s) ✨ [tba] word count ✨ 2.9k a/n ✨ [header credit] | [divider credit] ⤏ this took. forever. and was completely unplanned. my apologies and enjoy. ✨ MASTERPOST ✨ ✨ PREVIOUS CHAPTER ⤎ ✨ ⤏ NEXT CHAPTER [TBA] ✨

Eliana had long since learned how to keep herself busy.

Fortunately, the novelty of living in the same space as the supposed “Hero of Time” (a moniker which Eliana had attempted to discourage heavily with only a modicum of success) seemed to wear off for the most part the day after she officially moved into the Guild. She stayed quiet, kept her head down, and humored the apprentices as much as her limited social battery allowed. It helped, once they realized that she was just another person like they were (albeit thrust into extraordinary circumstances and forced to contend with Legends and Myths alike across time and space…not that she liked to dwell on any of that), and, by the second day, they were greeting her with beaming grins and warm ‘good morning’s after the morning address.

It made melting into the shadows that much easier. It was an old glove that fit well, to cling to the sidelines while the others conducted their business, absorbed into their own little worlds. Eliana’s involuntary and unintended fame had faded to the wayside for the most part after she and Lu had graduated and worked their way into relative obscurity. But now, to be inadvertently thrust back into it, she relied upon the methods she’d utilized when she’d first washed ashore in the past, a fresh amnesiac, and discovered by Lu: immersing herself behind his blinding, bright presence.

It worked, as it did before. Most people didn’t even pay her much mind if they spoke to Lu, too preoccupied by the Aura Pokémon’s warm demeanor and composed manner. It helped that Eliana only involved herself in matters about which she knew extensively, mostly dismissing herself from conversations that didn’t involve her realm of expertise (which was, admittedly, a very particular niche within the Federation’s fields of study). She completed the tasks that Lu assigned her without a word of complaint, oftentimes losing herself in the work for the quiet that it brought her noisy mind.

She ran errands. She dusted and trimmed and rearranged the Guild’s interior. She even took on the monotony of the minutiae that Lu hadn’t mentioned that needed tending, all to avoid the looming project she wished she could avoid, or at the very least delegate to someone else. Although…she supposed it was inevitable that she would run out of things to occupy herself, as persistent as she was to ensure the completion of her ‘daily chores’, as they were. Which meant that the job of reorganizing the library reached the height of priority far sooner than she would’ve preferred.

That morning, while sharing a quick breakfast before he would have to take a quick venture into the countryside to visit one of the nearby communities dotting the coastline, Lu seemed to sense her unease, since she had updated him on her progress accordingly.

“That’ll be quite a bit of work for one person,” he carefully edged around the elephantine specter in the room that the entire situation posed. “And given your limitations, I figured some help would be appreciated, so I asked Team Serenity to do it. They’ll return to the Guild once they conclude their morning routine around town.”

Eliana blinked at him, chewing on the last nanab berry. She figured it would be selfish to ask that he reassign the duty to someone else, especially given the workload that the apprentices already carried on top of their ever-rigorous training. She wouldn’t complain. She had offered to help, and she was at least partially that Lu was treating the delicate matter as generically as he would anything else regarding the tenuous context about which the belly of the Guild reminded her; ignoring the bad memories associated with that room might assist her to repress (and, ideally, forget) them in the long run. She’d just have to grit her teeth and bear it, like all the other unpleasantries with which she’d been forced to suffer throughout her life, both here and in her world of origin. It would be no worse than having to dig all the mud out of the sentry tunnel after the flood that one time, surely.

“Kirlia and Togetic?” she recalled. They were sweet girls, thoughtful and curious about her in a more personable way; they seemed to actively try to separate her mountainous reputation from her true character with their gentle and tentative lines of questioning during the scant moments afforded them in the evenings approaching the serving of dinner…even if they unintentionally struck more chords than was still exactly comfortable.

“Yes. I figured it would help you build rapport with them, and I intended to have you work more closely with the other teams, as well…as long as you’re all right with that, of course,” Lu amended. “They have significant respect for you already, but I know you’re not overly fond of the fame. Letting them get to know the real you will benefit them, I think—and they, in turn, will share that with everyone else. Plus it will give them valuable insight.” He gave her a small smile. “You are rather knowledgeable, after all.”

“I…don’t mind,” Eliana responded, her eyes tracing the silvery hairs lining her partner’s muzzle in the shimmering morning sunlight not for the first time. He’d already started to gray when she’d departed from the past, but…the visual difference was still striking and difficult to adjust to. His paws, tail, and feelers were also starting to glimmer. She would normally tease him, try to explain the concept of a ‘silver fox’, but the knot in the center of her chest since she’d arrived was no easy thing to dissuade. “I’ll put them to work, certainly.”

“It’ll save your back, at least.” Lu chuckled and twisted from side to side, his spine crackling with the movement. “Mine never went back into place after the last expedition, dragging those logs around. Chatot says I’m getting old.”

“He’s no spring chicken, either.” Eliana watched the laughter spill from Lu, perceiving her implication despite the odd ‘human’ colloquialism. She released a quiet sigh, glancing away from his hazy, unfocused eyes. “I’ll get started once I take this to the kitchen. Send them down whenever.”

Eliana stretched to rid her lithe body of the lingering stiffness of sleep, yawned, and looped her tail around the handle of the emptied basket. Lu tucked the juice-stained napkins and tossed the inedible berry stems into it, then stood with a crack of his knees and a low groan. “Maybe I am getting old.”

“Hush.” Eliana swallowed tightly. “You’re fine. You ought to start taking more vitamins.”

“Like that’ll help stop the progress of time,” Lu chuffed, shaking his head with a wry grin as he stooped to grab his pre-packed Treasure Bag. “But it might not hurt, now that you mention it. Maybe I should visit the physician in Jewel Cove while I’m there. Chatot mentioned that he’s an apothecary, too.”

Eliana rolled her shoulders as her ears folded back in discomfort. “Whatever powders he’ll give you will be bitter, for sure.”

“What, you think they’ll make me grouchy?” Lu bumped his hip into her flank fondly as they walked out of his office together. “And here you were fretting about my joints not even a moment ago.”

“Just be careful,” Eliana told him sternly. “You said there were mystery dungeons on the way. Are you sure you don’t need someone to go with you? I don’t mind putting this off.”

“A handful, but they’re nothing I can’t handle by myself. I’ve made this trip a handful of times. The port and post office need inspection occasionally, and it gives me an excuse to get some fresh air…away from all these rowdy children for a while, too.”

“Said with the deepest paternal affection I have ever heard,” she commented, amused.

“Ah, well. They keep me going.” Lu smiled. He tilted his head at her, eyes knowing. “And with all the research projects I’ve had mounting in the background to prepare for the next expedition, I’m afraid this is something that shouldn’t wait. I can’t find half the books I need, and the apprentices don’t know what to look for to read to me.”

“There goes my day off.”

“After only three days of paid Guild work, she says.” Lu folded his arms over his chest, snug under his fractured chest spike. “I know better than anyone that you start trying to climb walls when you don’t have anything to do, Eliana.”

He was right, unfortunately. She wondered what obscure things he would pull out of the barrel for her to do once she finished this and he returned. “You’re losing daylight,” she deadpanned in response. “You don’t have enough time today to call me out if you plan on getting there before sundown, Lu.”

“I should be back in a couple of days—I’ll send a message once I get there.” At her bumping into him expectantly, he loosed a long-suffering exhale. “And when I intend to leave. Myths and Legends, you’re as fretful as a mother.”

“Someone has to look after you.” Eliana chewed the inside of her cheek briefly. “I’ll let you know if anything happens.”

“I think you’re more capable of looking after this place than you think you are,” Lu reminded her—a conversation they’d had a couple of times since he’d notified her of the impromptu trip the previous morning. “But Chatot will still be here to monitor things.”

Eliana nodded. “He’ll definitely keep me in line, if nothing else.”

“Grovyle and Celebi should also be returning in the next day or so. They ran into a delay, according to the note they sent, but they were headed home when they sent it ahead of them.” Lu stroked a paw down the length of her back. “Will you be all right without me?”

“Peachy. I won’t be blasting a hole through the wall, if that’s what you mean.”

“That isn’t what I meant and you know it.”

Eliana looked away, towards the subtle fissure in the aforementioned wall that had yet to be patched. Who knew a ghost would have so much mass? (Or that she’d developed enough strength to throw him so hard?) “…I’ll be fine. I can be cordial.”

“But I know you still feel—”

Her ears flattened. “Lu. I can handle it. It’s not the only time we’ve dealt with a reformed criminal in close quarters.”

Lu’s mouth thinned. “Eliana…”

“I won’t lie to you. I still don’t like it. I don’t know how things will turn out. I’d much rather avoid the entire ordeal, if it’s all the same to you. I understand all of you have had time to reconcile with him, but the wounds are still fresh for me.” Eliana gritted her teeth. “I’ll need space, first. Just knowing he’s living in my town is enough of a concept to accept.”

“I know.” She knew he did. She felt the subtle brush of his aura, a frisson-inducing tingle that swept over her. His concern trickled into the back of her mind like the weight of a warm blanket. “I would never ask more than anything you’re willing to give. Take all the time and space you need.” He paused. “I already warned him to take care not to push you.”

She believed that, too. “As long as he keeps his distance, I think…I can deal with it.”

“That’s fine. If it makes you feel any better, he’s been anxious about the idea of your return ever since he learned you were gone…although the reasons for that may not be what you expect.”

Eliana frowned and looked back up at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Lu shook his head again, but she didn’t miss the pinch in the corner of his mouth. “Nothing. Forget I said anything.” He refocused on her with a more composed expression. “He just wishes not to make the same mistakes again.”

“That’s the least he could do,” she muttered.

“Nevertheless,” Lu said, straightening, “ignore him if you must. But a simple greeting wouldn’t hurt anything.”

Eliana hummed noncommittally, skeptical. “We’ll see.”

Lu patted her back once more before he headed for the stairwell. “Take care, Eliana.”

“Safe travels, Lu.” Eliana squared her shoulders. “Let me know if you need me!”

“I will!” he called back, already ascending.

A breeze curled its mild fingers through the main level of the Guild through the windows in his absence and the subsequent silence, rustling Eliana’s ears. She headed for the dining room and the nook of a kitchen it housed to drop off the basket and its refuse, then climbed down the warren to the basement level.

Someone (likely Magby) had lit the sconces mounted on the walls at some point that morning after the address, so her shadow on the opposing corridor dwarfed her comparatively minuscule frame. The room hadn’t changed, just as she’d expected. It was dusty, dilapidated, and in sore need of freshening up. The overstuffed armchair, upholstered in crushed red velvet, still reclined before the massive slab of a desk. The shelves remained packed full of books likely much older than the settlement itself, the covers more faded than she recalled. The rug beneath her feet was thinner, but no less soft. Eliana shivered as she passed through the threshold with a frown, stopping in the center of the room and straining her senses.

No phantoms leaped out at her with grasping hands intent to harm. No booming voices threatened damnation as punishment for crimes unrecalled. No fiercely glaring eye unraveled any semblance of trust and confidence with the mere blaze of cruel crimson.

Eliana shook her head, baring her teeth with a low growl of frustration. She promised Lu she’d try to leave the past…well, in the past. There was no use in dwelling on such negative recollections that would ultimately prove to be a hindrance to that effort, even if those very glimpses of sensation still haunted her dreams on the worst nights.

“Miss Eliana…?”

The fur flared along Eliana’s spine as she whipped around, but as soon as she spotted the demure pair lingering uncertainly in the doorway, she relaxed. “Ah. Sorry. Come in.”

The pair edged into the room, Kirlia fiddling with the silky pink bow knotted under her chin as Togetic fluttered closer, a scarf of the same color billowing out with the movement. Eliana eased back a step to make room for them, glancing around with a different eye—assessing rather than reminiscing.

“What would you like us to do?” Togetic asked, following her gaze with some curiosity.

“First,” Eliana began slowly, “I suppose we should do some spring cleaning. It seems this place is in sore need of it.”

“I’ll get the supplies,” Kirlia offered quietly, then slipped back out into the hall.

Upon seeing Eliana’s questioning gaze, Togetic offered the older explorer a small smile. “Apologies, Miss Eliana. Kirlia is…sensitive to the feelings of others.”

As many psychic types were. Eliana nodded. “I understand.” She tilted her head, mouth thinning. “Is there…something wrong?”

“Wrong?” Togetic fluttered her wings a little, her pleasant expression morphing into one of consternation as she lit off the ground and swept up to one of the corners to bat away the cobwebs residing there. “No, just…negative emotions tend to make her nervous.”

“Has someone been bothering her, then?” was Eliana’s followup. She wouldn’t tolerate anyone enduring any sort of bullying like what she and Lu endured as apprentices from Team Skull, much less towards to Team Serenity.

“Oh, um…no, miss,” Togetic replied apprehensively.

“You can tell me,” Eliana said resolutely. “If anything happens, you can always tell me, or Chatot, or L—Guildmaster Lucario.”

“I know. And it isn’t anyone else, miss, I promise.” She finally dared to peek at the verdant Pokemon, apologetic and reticent all at once. She glanced towards the empty doorway. “It’s…um. You, Miss Eliana.”

She blinked. “…Ah.”

“Th-that isn’t to say we don’t want to be around you!” Togetic rushed to soothe. “On the contrary, we are delighted that Guildmaster Lucario asked this of us—honored, even!”

“‘But’…?” Eliana offered with a resigned sigh.

“But…” Togetic tugged a stray root springing out of the wall. Growth was allowed elsewhere to catch stray moisture, but not near the valuable old tomes so susceptible to elemental damages. “…Both of us sense your, ah…distress.”

“‘Distress’,” Eliana echoed, her ears lowering. “I don’t feel distressed.”

“Outwardly, perhaps. It is…difficult to express in words what we are able to sense.” The apprentice glanced at her over her shoulder. “Your aura reads as though it is…well, I would describe it as wounded—scarring over but still, um, bleeding in places, as though it was torn back open again after almost healing over.”

Eliana really shouldn’t have been surprised. She rolled her shoulders and shook herself before facing one of the shelves. “…I see.”

“I know I have no right to intrude upon whatever it may be—and I don’t know, I cannot read minds, so you needn’t worry about that,” Togetic hastily amended, “but…it is generally healthier to work through whatever problem may have caused such a thing rather than—”

“Thank you,” Eliana interjected, her teeth clenched as she tried to keep her voice even. “I appreciate it. I do. But it’s a little more complicated than what you might think.”

Togetic regarded her for a moment, considering, then tipped her head. “If I may…?”

Eliana closed her eyes. “Yes?”

“This might be overstepping, but…” Togetic yanked another winding vine out of the wall, sending a shower of dust down to the floor and loosening some errant pieces of gravel in so doing. “…your hurt is the same as Mister Dusknoir’s.”

[sweetcloverheart]

You know, thinking about it some more, by "Derision"'s own premise - Marinette should have absolutely hated (or at least distrusted) Adrien day one regardless of the Umbrella apology, because him being friends with Chloe would have been the major issue/deal breaker. The moment she hears he's Chloe's childhood friend, she would have been doing utmost to avoid him at every turn despite him being so nice to her (After all, Kim was nice to her too, and look what happened there) because all the apparent deepseated trauma Chloe's prank left her.

Also, by extension, the class would have distrusted him too (and Kim maybe)? This is a dude that's apparently besties with the girl who's been harassing them for years and made their beloved favorite classmate go through a super traumatizing event the year before. A good majority of Adrien's first few months at Francois Dupount should have been the miraclass all avoiding him and playing interference whenever he tried to interact with Marinette, with the only minor exceptions being Nino (Who is the goodest of boys and also wasn't in the same class as Mari and Co when it happened but really should know regardless considering Chloe videotaped it and put it online?), Alya (Who just transferred in and likely wouldn't know what's happening either), and Chloe+Sabrina (The former of whom is more than happy that the losers are keeping away from her precious Adrichou! More of him for her then!). (And maybe also Kim? He probably sees it as Adrien going through what he did after the prank and deciding to buddy up/help him out since "nobody here knows how to take a joke")

Meanwhile, Adrien would feel so confused and isolated because his class all just hates him for some reason and he has no clue what he might of did to make them all mad at him? And it just makes school feel like home except 100 times worst because at least he (thinks he) knows why his dad often ignores and avoids him. And speaking of, he can't go to him about the problem because he'll just use the class's actions as an excuse to lock him back up in the manor for homeschool because it just "proves" he was completely right about Adrien not being safe at public school, and Chloe's no good either because her "help" (i.e Calling daddy or the principal to take away a class privilege or get a trip/activity cancelled those mean losers made her precious Adrien sad - so fix it or else!) ends up just worsening the divide, so he's basically on his own except for Plagg (who sadly can't really intervene in a way that would actually solve the issue). It also ends up funneling into making his crush on Ladybug 220% more codependent because it's literally one of the very few relationships he has where he isn't being treated like a leaper, idol, or a nuisance...except it turns out she also hates Adrien - but that's fine, because Chat Noir hates Adrien too! Dude's just the worst, don't you think my lady? So everything fine because they can hate Adrien together and bond through that (self hatred and poor coping mechanisms go brrr~)!

Basically the first 2 and a half seasons should have played out like an "Enemies!AU" where Marinette and most of the Miraclass is convinced Adrien is Chloe's new vice chief bully and act accordingly as Adrien desperately tries (and fails) to make friends and figure out why everyone dislikes him so much, while the Ladynoir side has the two bonding over how much they hate that lame blonde modeling twink from the magazines.

...Ah crap, now I want to make an AU.

[senashenta]

Title: Horror High

Pairing: Destiel

Rating: NC-17 (in future chapters)

Warnings: Sex, Violence

Summary: John Winchester plants his eldest son at Caspar High in Jacksonville because weird things have been happening there: people disappearing. People reappearing only dead and drained of all their bodily fluids. Cocoons. It’s up to Dean to figure out what’s stalking Caspar’s halls and deal with it accordingly; but then he meets the New Kid—newer than him, even, the New-New Kid—Castiel Novak, and all his plans get severely derailed. Now Dean has to juggle the supernatural case—a really hungry jorogumo—and also the fact that he’s very quickly falling in love, something that is absolutely forbidden by his dad.

Meanwhile Castiel, shoved into the third new school in a year because his adoptive father—Chuck Shurley’s—job has them moving around a lot, struggles to fit in at Caspar High, not only because he’s the New Kid but because he’s the weird New Kid. Dean seems like a saving grace, a harbor in a storm, someone who doesn’t judge him—that is until Cas finds out about Dean’s night job. Cas’s life just got a whole lot stranger—but that doesn’t stop him from falling for Dean, regardless.

Notes: This is my first time writing Destiel OR SPN (though I have written SPN AU in other fandoms) so please bear with me while I get my footing.

Also HH was originally supposed to be like a 10-page one-shot and the next thing I knew it was 79-pages-of-11-pt-Arial-and-counting and I was looking for places to divide it for chapters so. Yeah. This storyline kind of just took over my brain and became a THING.

Top Dean and Bottom Cas which I know is the reverse of how 90% of the fandom writes them, but I am tentatively planning a sequel to HH (depending on how well it does or doesn’t go over) that will flip them around so be patient shhhh.

Cas is younger than Dean in this AU by like… six months. Dean’s official birthday is January 24th, and I used Jimmy Novak’s birthday for Cas, which is July 10th. Since they’re both in the same grade that makes Cas younger. Just accept it and move on.

I have never been to Jacksonville or Florida, so everything contained within this fic is completely fictitious; business names, street names, school names, place names, everything except Jacksonville, Florida itself. :D

ALSO, before anyone corrects me on stuff, I am CANADIAN and I know the CANADIAN high school system/curriculum. I really have very little idea of how the US school system/classes work so like. I’m just making it up as I go. :D;; (Literally how many classes do US high school students have in a day?? Up here it’s FOUR.)

Please excuse my interpretation of jorogumos, I took a LOT of liberties.

Chapter Two will be posted next Friday, if you're into that sort of thing. You can also read this HERE on AO3.

HORROR HIGH TUMBLR MASTER POST HERE.

HORROR HIGH Chapter One By Senashenta

Dean Winchester crept up the steps of Caspar High School in Jacksonville, Florida, and ducked under the line of police tape that marked off the area, heading for the little tent that had been erected just to the side of the building, near the bushes. The whole scene was theoretically being guarded by the police—but the officer they had left behind was asleep in his police car out front.

Bang up job, Jacksonville P.D.

That aside, Dean was good at his job, so sneaking into a crime scene was no big deal for him, guarded or not. And this was just your basic body check, there wouldn’t be any fighting or anything to wake the cop up—or that was the theory, anyway. (Even if there was, it wouldn’t be his first time being caught and or arrested, either, but they would probably just chalk it up to him being a nosy kid regardless.)

This was the first time his Dad had trusted him enough to drop him in a town to take care of a case alone. Of course, Sam was in Jacksonville with Dean while their Dad headed to Utah to look into a recent spate of killings there, but Sam was pretty much confined to school and the motel on this outing, as per their father’s orders. Still, Dean was going to be keeping a close eye on him: Sam had been known to rabbit in the past and he didn’t want to have to call his Dad and explain that he had lost his little brother (again.)

Now, Dean stealthily unzipped the tent flap and stepped inside, letting it fall closed behind himself.

What he was confronted with when his eyes adjusted to the darkness wasn’t a body so much as a cocoon, an oblong, rounded object the size of a person and wrapped in layers and layers of what looked almost like off-white cheesecloth or gauze. Dean leaned down and tapped at it with his fingers. It was soft, like silk.

Well that would explain why the police hadn’t taken the body away yet; there was no body, per se.

“Let’s see what’s inside you.”

Dean pulled the buck knife out of the back of his jeans, unsheathed it, and got to work cutting the cocoon open. The wrapping, though soft, was tough and sticky, hard to slice through, but eventually he hacked a seam lengthways along the cocoon, at which point he set his knife aside to pull the damned thing open.

Inside was the actual body; male, probably, and curled in on itself, shrivelled and desiccated and dried to a withered husk. At least it didn’t smell. Dean still made a face, even as he released the cocoon and picked up his knife, tucking it away again before exiting the little tent and heading off down the street, making for the motel he and Sam were staying at.

The Seafoam Motel wasn’t exactly high-class, but then none of the places they stayed at ever were. But it had walls and a roof, good locks on the door, it was cheap, and nobody asked too many questions about the occupants of the rooms, and those were all the important things. The Seafoam Motel ticked all the boxes for a financially strapped Hunter—and for his kids, too. Not that you would know it from Sam’s complaining.

At least it had wifi, the kid would have pitched an absolute fit if it hadn’t.

When he got back to the room the door was predictably locked (good job, Sammy), and Dean banged on it a couple of times, calling out, “Sammy, it’s me, open the door!”

After a moment of silence there was the sound of the chain lock and deadbolt being unlocked, and then the door was yanked open. Sam stepped aside to let Dean in and then closed and locked the door behind him, just like it had been drilled into him so many times in the past. “What’d you find?”

“Cocoon.”

“Come again?”

“Cocoon.” Dean repeated as he crossed the room, pulling his knife out and setting it on the little kitchenette table, then dropping into one of the rickety chairs. “You know, like the movie? The body was inside it. Wrapped up in this tough, sticky… I don’t know what. But it sure looked a hell of a lot like a cocoon to me.”

Sam was already heading for his laptop. “That gives us a place to start, at least.”

“Oh no, no no.” Dean headed him off at the pass, practically diving over and snatching the computer before Sam could get to it. “You’re not doing research all night, we have freaking school in the morning.” And then, “…I can’t believe I just said that.”

“Yeah, because you care about school.” Sam rolled his eyes and made a grab for the laptop, but Dean held it over his head where he couldn’t reach. “Dean.”

“I care about the girls at school.” He informed his brother with a grin, then added, “and it’s nearly two a.m., we’re going to bed. Research tomorrow. Sleep now. Besides, I have to check out the school some more anyway, just a cocoon isn’t going to give us much.”

Sam grumbled, eventually agreed, but still held his hand out for his computer. Dean deposited the laptop safely into his grasp and then started stripping down, falling into bed once he was in just his boxers and a t-shirt. “Get the lights, Sammy.”

Sam flicked the lights off with a long-suffering sigh.

-- --

Castiel Novak wasn’t having a great first day at Caspar High. He was relatively used to being the New Kid, his father’s job had them moving around a lot so he switched schools on a regular basis, but the hazing at Caspar was particularly mean spirited, he was finding, not to mention the building itself was an absolute maze, and he had been late for literally all of his morning classes simply because he hadn’t been able to find them and no one had been willing to help him out.

Now he was seated in the cafeteria, by himself but surrounded by the rest of the bustling student body, unsure what to really do with himself.

This wasn’t his first time being the New Kid. He and his father moved around a lot for his father’s job and Caspar High was the third school he’d transferred to since September. It was now January. His father promised that the moving would slow down, though; he could see how much it wore on Cas, even if the boy never said anything about it. He was going to start travelling for his seminars, instead, now that he felt Cas was old enough to stay home on his own. So Cas could potentially be at Caspar for a while.

He probably should have been worried about making friends. For most kids his age that would have been top priority, but Cas had always been a little different, and he thought he was fine on his own, if it came down to it, especially considering the first impression he was getting of the other students so far. It figured that the High School he was likely to actually graduate from would turn out to be full of nothing but jerks.

He was also possibly a little jaded from all the moving around he’d done in the past.

For the time being he just dug his lunch—a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, an apple and a bottle of water—out of his backpack, unwrapped the sandwich and began to pick little pieces of it off and eat them, rather than taking proper bites as he usually would. He wasn’t really all that hungry, considering there were at least a hundred pairs of eyes on him at the moment.

And then—

“HEY NEW KID!”

When Cas looked up, a basketball was flying at his face and he had no time to duck out of the way—but at the last possible second hands shot out of nowhere, snatching the ball out of the air before it could hit its’ target. Blue eyes blinked, and his head swivelled sideways to take in the stranger that had just saved him from a black eye at the very least.

The guy wasn’t overly tall—probably around Cas’s height, give or take—with short, tousled brown hair. He was sporting a t-shirt and a flannel button-up under a worn black jean jacket. He was also wearing ripped jeans. But Cas was most taken by his eyes, which were a sharp, beautiful forest green. As he watched, the other boy eyed the kid across the cafeteria who had thrown the ball to begin with—then abruptly pitched it back at the offender. The ball slammed into the other kid’s head, sending him flying backward out of his seat and causing laugher to erupt all across the cafeteria.

Then his rescuer just looked down at him for a moment before dropping down to sit next to him, straddling the bench. “They tried that on me my first day here, too. Same thing happened then. You’d think they’d learn.”

“Thank you.” Cas offered with a blink.

“No problem.”

“I’m Castiel.”

“That’s a mouthful. I’m Dean.” And then, “the fact that you’re wearing a tie right now isn’t going to help your popularity. Also,” he reached over to physically pull the tie off Cas’s neck and dropped it on the table in front of them. Cas allowed it, somewhat baffled. “You had it on backwards. Honestly, dude, just wear t-shirts like the rest of us.”

“I can do that.” Cas agreed. He owned t-shirts. He grabbed his tie to stuff it into his backpack. Then he returned to looking at Dean, taking in his features and mannerisms. He was exceedingly good-looking, Cas decided almost absently. At the same time, Dean was looking him over as well, seeming to take stock of him, gaze alert and analytical. Scrutinizing.

Eventually Cas shifted a little and asked, “are you new, too?”

“New-ish.” Dean shrugged, “I transferred in two weeks ago.”

“That’s why you’re nicer than...” Cas trailed off and glanced around the cafeteria.

“Literally everyone else here?” Dean suggested with a laugh.

“I didn’t want to say it, but yes.”

“It gets better. After a few days they forget. They’re dumb like that, the masses.”

“Zombies.”

“Uh,” Dean hesitated, but then allowed, “yeah, sure, kind of.”

“You don’t sound very certain, Dean.”

“Well, Cas, I just think zombies are probably different than in the movies.”

Wait. “Cas?” He called himself ‘Cas’ in his head, but no one ever called him that out loud except his father.

Dean gave him a little amused look, “’Castiel’ is a lot.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“As long as it’s fine with you, that is.”

Cas nodded and offered a smile. “It’s fine with me.”

Dean gave him a little grin back. “Great.”

The rest of lunch hour was spent with Cas actually eating his lunch properly while he talked with Dean and they got to know each other a little. No one else bothered them for the rest of the time they were in the cafeteria, and Cas was hoping he would have at least one of his afternoon classes with Dean, but when they compared their schedules, it sadly wasn’t to be. Cas resigned himself to hazing throughout the day for at least the next week or so—until the rest of the student body moved on.

It was a novelty to talk with someone who overlooked his innate strangeness. Cas was so used to people giving him odd looks that Dean chatting with him as freely as he was now, was… almost baffling. Dean seemed like the kind of guy who could be popular, have tons of friends easily, and instead here he was wasting his time with Cas. It was… weird. Not that Cas was complaining.

When the bell rang to signify the end of lunch hour, Cas was mildly disappointed that their conversation had to end. He shifted in his seat a bit before asking tentatively, “you could sit with me again tomorrow, If you wanted?”

“I’ve already got a spot where I spend lunch hour, usually. Not in here.” Dean replied casually, making Cas wilt a little, then; “but you can join me if you want. Meet me by the gym tomorrow at the start of lunch, okay?”

Cas brightened again, nodding. “Okay.”

“Cool.” Dean stood up and brushed the nonexistent dust off himself with a grin, “then I’ll see you tomorrow, Cas.”

Cas smiled back. “Mm, see you tomorrow.”

He didn’t know where Dean was going, but he was off to calculus class—assuming he could find it.

-- --

“Hey, New Kid.”

Cas was really getting tired of being called that, but at least this time there had been no malice behind it. More curiosity, if anything. He was seated in calculus, having found it with (relative) ease, trying to keep his head down and out of trouble when the voice spoke up from in front of him. He reluctantly lifted his head.

The girl in the seat in front of him was twisted around in her chair to face him, a wide smile on her face. Her hair was the reddest red that Cas thought it could possibly be. She gave him a little wave. “I’m Charlie. What’s your name?”

Cas hesitated before offering, “Castiel. But just Cas is fine.”

“Wow, yeah, ‘Castiel’ is…”

“A lot.” Cas echoed Dean’s words from earlier in the day. He was starting to relax now that Charlie was turning out to be friendly. He sat up a little straighter. “It’s nice to meet you, Charlie.”

“Nice to meet you, too!” Charlie glanced around, “I know most of the population of his school are jerks, but calculus is a pretty safe class, so you can relax a little. Oh!” She gestured to the side at another girl, “this is Jody,” and then to the boy sitting in the seat beside Cas, “and this is Garth. They’re cool too.”

Jody had short brown hair and dark eyes, and almost a maternal smile; Garth was tall and lanky, kind of goofy looking but gave him a greeting grin that Cas couldn’t help smiling back to. He was definitely feeling more comfortable now, in this class, at least.

“I saw what happened at lunch,” Charlie said, pulling his attention back to her, “Dean Winchester saved you, which, like… what was he even doing in the cafeteria? He always vanishes at lunch time. No one knows where he goes. It’s a mystery.” She wiggled her fingers a little, “he must like you, ‘cause he usually just keeps to himself, or he has since he transferred in, anyway.”

“Mn, he said he was new, too.”

“Yeah, by a couple weeks. No one dares pick on him, though, he’d kick everyone’s asses.”

Cas coughed out a little laugh. “I got that impression.” Then, after a slight hesitation, “he said I could sit with him at lunch tomorrow. So.”

“Ooh, exciting! You’ll have to tell us where he eats lunch, then!” Charlie grinned at him, then rolled her eyes slightly, “aaaaaaall the girls have a crush on him. He’s handsome and mysterious and blah blah blah.”

“You think he’s over-rated.” Jody informed flatly, though her expression was amused.

“Over-rated?” Cas questioned.

“Charlie is gay.” Garth explained. “Like, so gay.”

“So gay.” Charlie agreed.

“Oh.” Cas shrugged. It didn’t bother him. “I’m not entirely straight myself.”

Charlie just grinned. “So you don’t think Dean Winchester is over-rated.”

He cleared his throat and glanced down a little. “He’s not unattractive.”

“Yeaaaah that’s what I thought.”

“I like girls, too, though, I just… I like who I like. I don’t care about their gender.”

“That’s valid.” Charlie gave him a reassuring smile, then just changed the topic entirely; “where’d you move from?”

Cas blinked. “Wichita, Kansas. My Father and I move around a lot for his job… or we did. Now that I’m older I guess he trusts me to stay home alone so he’s going to start travelling instead. So I’m stuck here.”

“It’s not so bad here once you settle in,” Jody reassured him.

“Yeah,” Charlie nodded, “and you’ve got us now, so it’s not like you have no friends.”

“You just have weird friends.” Garth laughed.

Cas couldn’t help the little grin that crept across his own face. He was actually perfectly okay with having weird friends.

-- --

In history class, after calculus, somebody tripped him on his way to his seat and Cas fell flat on his face. The rest of the students laughed. Cas just got back up and continued on, pretending nothing had happened. That was the best way to deal with bullies, he had learned, over his long and sordid history of transferring from school to school. Ignore them until they give up and go away.

Or, alternatively, have Dean Winchester throw a basketball at their face. That apparently worked, too.

In any case, after the incident in history, the rest of the day passed easily enough, until Cas found himself standing outside the school after final bell, just taking deep breaths of the fresh air and looking up at the sky—soaking in the fact that he was free, at least for the rest of the day.

“You going left or right?”

Cas blinked at the familiar voice and turned his attention to Dean, who had come up beside him while he was distracted with the general out-of-doors. He glanced toward the route he had to take to get home. “Right. Why?”

“Me too. I’ll walk with you.”

“Oh. Okay.” And then, “thanks.”

“Don’t gotta thank me. I’m walking that way anyway.” Dean nudged him to get him moving, and Cas headed off with the other boy by his side.

“No, I mean,” Cas waved one hand in an absent sort of gesture, “I mean for earlier. In the cafeteria. You really didn’t have to do that. And one of the girls I was talking to later said you don’t even usually go in the cafeteria, so I just… thanks. For going out of your way. I appreciate it.”

“You were gossiping about me?”

“I—” Cas began, then clapped his mouth shut again and shook his head in a quick negative. When he spoke up once more it was to mutter, “of course not.”

But Dean was already grinning, looking overly amused. “It’s fine, Cas, I’m used to being gossip fodder. What was she saying about me?”

“That all the girls here think you’re handsome.” Cas told him easily, but conveniently left out the part where he agreed with them. There was no sense in telling a guy he’d just met that he was already developing a crush on him, especially when he might be moving again any day. He really wasn’t sure he trusted his father’s promises that they were going to stay put this time. “And that no one knows where you disappear to at lunch time, apparently it’s a big mystery.”

Dean laughed. “Well you’ll know, starting tomorrow.” He pointed out, “you’re still gonna join me, right?”

Cas actually gave him a surprised look. “I didn’t think you actually—”

“—meant it?” Dean finished for him. His smile softened for just a second before returning to his previous jovial expression. “Mmm… I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it. And besides, you’re different from all those other assholes, I can tell.”

“I like to think I am, anyway.” Then, “you are, too.”

Dean grinned again. “I think we’re going to be friends, Cas, I really do.”

Cas offered up a smile of his own, “I’d like that, Dean.”

They walked together for a few blocks, until they got to James Street, at which point Cas paused and gestured down it. This was his turn off, he had to walk down James to get to King Street where he lived, and it was… well, the term “sketchy” came to mind. James Street was all run-down houses, broken fences, guard dogs and probably drug dealers. Dean looked down the street, giving it a thorough eyeballing, before declaring—

“Nope!” He gave Cas a little push toward the street, but then followed him, falling into step beside him as they headed down James. “No way are you walking down here by yourself, dude, that’s just asking to get axe-murdered. Or worse.”

“Worse than axe-murdered?”

“Oh, trust me there are so many worse things than being axe-murdered.”

Cas would have to take his word for it. He couldn’t personally think of any, but that didn’t mean they didn’t exist. For now he was just going over and over in his head how this guy he had just met was walking him all the way home through a dodgy part of town, even though he didn’t have to. His tiny, newborn crush on Dean Winchester was probably growing teeth already, and it hadn’t even been a day.

“When’s your birthday?”

“Huh?” Cas blinked back to reality at the question and actually had to fumble for a response before managing, “July.”

“January.” Dean was paying very close attention to their surroundings while also trying to maintain a conversation and that was obvious. “So I’m older.”

“Only by six months.” Cas pointed out.

“Still counts. Means you have to do what I say.” Dean grinned at him fleetingly, “those’re the rules!”

“I don’t like those rules.” The younger teen gave a token protest. “I think you made those rules up.”

“Possibly, but they’re important.”

“Why?”

“Could save your life one day.”

Cas laughed softly at that, but Dean didn’t, instead falling silent until they were past James Street and out of the sketchy area that Cas had very much walked through unescorted on his way to school that morning. Dean relaxed visibly as soon as they were back to “normal” neighborhoods, his steps easier and his shoulder slouching a little, where they had been tense and taut only a moment before.

Honestly, Cas wasn’t entirely sure what was up with Dean, but clearly something was going on inside his head. He would love to have picked Dean’s brain about it, but he really didn’t think Dean would be up for sharing. Maybe he had an incident in his past, something to do with a neighborhood like James that had him acting like he was now. Cas thought possibly once they got to know each other a little bit more, he might ask, but for now…

“I live on King.” He gestured down the street in question when they neared it, “I really can walk from here, I… um. But thanks. Again.”

Dean’s steps slowed to a stop and he glanced around, as if checking the surrounding neighborhood before deeming it safe. “Okay, Cas. I’ll see you tomorrow, right? Be careful walking that way on your way to school in the morning.”

“I will.” Cas gave him a little smile, “thanks, Dean. See you tomorrow.” Then he turned and headed across the street to King, where his father was likely waiting to hear a rundown of his day.

-- --

Lunch time the next day found Cas nervously waiting outside the gym, half expecting Dean not to show—that it had all been an elaborate prank.

Cas’s morning had gone alright, though, everyone seemed to be steering clear now that it had circulated that Dean Winchester was looking out for him. He wasn’t sure what, exactly, Dean had done to garner his reputation, but whatever it was it had been effective.

“Hey.” A hand clapped into his shoulder and when Cas glanced up, Dean was standing there, “c’mon.”

Cas just stared at him. “You actually came.”

“Well, yeah,” Dean gave him an odd look, then gestured for him to follow and headed into the gym. It was empty right now, except for them, and Cas trailed after Dean as they walked around the side of the bleachers—and Dean ducked into the back of them, then dropped down and settled with his back against the wall. He waved a hand for Cas to join him.

Cas clambered in behind the bleachers as well, taking a seat beside Dean and setting his backpack beside him. “This is where you spend lunch?”

“Yeah. It’s private. Quiet, usually.” Dean shrugged, “I don’t mind you being here, though.”

Cas blinked at that, not quite sure what to say. “I—thanks?”

Dean tossed him a grin. “You don’t have to thank me for everything, Cas.”

But it was the polite thing to do. Cas opened his mouth—then closed it again. After a moment he just shrugged almost awkwardly and dug in his backpack for his lunch, unwrapping his sandwich and beginning to eat. He was so severely unused to having friends that this was difficult for him—socializing. He didn’t really know how to do it.

“Hey, what’s your family like?” Cas glanced over when Dean spoke up. The other boy had his head leaned back against the wall, his hands laced over his stomach and his eyes were staring off somewhere into the middle-distance.

“My family?” Cas swallowed a bite of sandwich and resisted the urge to shrug again. “It’s just me and my Father. He adopted me when I was five, but I don’t remember anything before then. It’s always just been the two of us.”

Dean smiled a little and looked at him. “I’ve got me, and my Dad, and my annoying little brother. But we get by okay.”

So neither of them had Moms. That was interesting. Cas took another bite of his sandwich and asked, “how come you transferred here? Does your Dad move around a lot for work or something?”

“You could say that.” Dean agreed, “what about you?”

“Same.” The younger teen nodded, in-between bites of food, “my Father is a motivational speaker, and he does series of seminars all over the place. The last couple months we were in Kansas, and Oregon before that. Now we’re here.” Another bite of sandwich and he continued, a little muffled, “he says we’re going to stay here, though, now that I’m old enough to stay home on my own. He says he’ll start travelling for his work instead.” A shrug, “I don’t know if I believe him or not.”

“Your Dad lie to you often?”

Cas sighed. “No, it’s just… I think it’s a stretch. That he’s suddenly decided all this.”

“Mm.” Dean seemed sympathetic, though Cas wasn’t entirely sure why. “Sucks that it’s this school that you’d be stuck at, after everything.”

“That’s what I was thinking yesterday.” Cas admitted, balling up the wrap from his lunch and dropping it back in his bag. Then he hesitated before offering, “but then I met you, and… things got better.”

Dean grinned again. “Yeah. I think we’re gonna be good friends, Cas.”

Cas found himself smiling back—and then Dean lifted his arm to run his hand through his hair and Cas’s eyes caught on a tear in the cuff of his jacket. He tilted his head curiously. “What happened to your jacket?”

“Huh?” Dean lowered his arm to peer at the rip. He shrugged. “I don’t even know, honestly, half my stuff has holes in it and I never know where they came from.”

Cas was already digging through his backpack again, and this time came up with a spool of black thread and a needle, much to Dean’s obvious surprise. He waved one hand toward the older boy, “take it off and I’ll fix it for you.”

Of all the ways this lunch hour could have gone, this was not one Dean would have predicted. He looked at Cas almost blankly for a moment, then let his eyes flick down to the other teen’s backpack. It was covered in vibrant patches—a cartoon PB&J sandwich, a pizza box, an LGBTQ flag, angel wings, etc.—all obviously hand-sewn on. And oh. So sewing was a thing with Cas. Okay.

Dean pushed away from the wall just enough to shrug out of his jacket and handed it over, watching curiously as Cas measured out a length of thread, then snapped it off with his teeth, threading the needle and knotting the thread a second later. He was obviously practiced at this particular skill. So was Dean, but for different reasons.

A few minutes of concentration later and Cas was finished with repairing the rip in his jacket, knotting off the thread and snapping it with his teeth again, then tucking the needle and thread away before sheepishly handing the jacket back to Dean.

“It’s not perfect, but it’s much better, right?” He asked almost shyly.

Dean gave him a genuine, grateful smile. “Thanks, Cas. It’s great.”

Cas watched him pull his jacket back on, smiling himself now. “I like to sew. It gives me something to do with my hands when I’m feeling… I don’t know. Antsy, I suppose. Like some people play with pencils or fidget toys, I have a needle and thread…”

Dean was inspecting the newly-sewn spot on his cuff, and looked up with a grin, “I play with knives.” He informed Cas, only half-joking.

Cas, not knowing any better, laughed anyway. “Hey, Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for… being nice to me. Thanks for this. For… being my friend.”

Dean almost told him he didn’t need to thank him again. Instead he just smiled, almost fond, and said, “you’re welcome, Cas.”

-- --

“What do you mean you’re not going to tell us where Dean Winchester spends lunch hour?”

This was from Charlie, who had one hand clasped to her chest and a positively shocked and scandalized look on her face. The entire thing was an act and Cas knew it, even having only known Charlie for two days. “Charlie.”

“What do you mean you’re not going to tell me where Dean Winchester spends lunch hour?”

“Aaaaaand there it is.” Jody drawled. Garth chuckled.

Cas just smiled apologetically. “It’s kind of a secret. I don’t think he wants people to know.”

Charlie pouted, “you just want him all to yourself, that’s what I think.”

Cas coughed and glanced down at the same time as Garth commented, “as if you care. You couldn’t be less interested in Dean Winchester if you tried, Charlie.”

“Not true!” Charlie insisted, “he is, indeed, a mystery that I am interested in solving! Just… not in, like, a romantic sense. Because ew.” Then she paused before adding, “I mean, objectively I can see where you would find him attractive, Cas, but just… no thanks.”

A soft laugh from Cas, faintly embarrassed. “Sorry, Charlie. I’m still not going to tell you.”

The girl heaved a suffering sigh. “You disappoint me, Castiel Novak.”

Again. “Sorry, Charlie.”

“You are not.”

He wasn’t even a little.

-- --

It became habit that Cas met Dean outside the gym every day at lunch and they spent lunch hour behind the bleachers, talking and laughing and becoming better friends, Cas’s minor crush on Dean growing into a huge monster of one very quickly.

Dean never had anything to eat at lunch and it hadn’t gone unnoticed by Cas, though he had thus far neglected to say anything. But the longer he knew Dean and the more time he spent with the other boy the more it bothered him. He wasn’t bringing anything from home, obviously, and never bought anything from the cafeteria, he just sat through lunch hour watching everyone else eat and going hungry himself, scribbling in a battered notebook that he carried in his inside jacket pocket.

And that didn’t sit right with Cas because some days it was obvious Dean was hungry from the way he watched Cas eat out of the corner of his eye. But why he never had food was probably a sensitive subject and Cas didn’t feel he had the right to ask.

He could, however, do something about it.

So the next time Dean plunked himself down on the ground behind the gym bleachers at lunch time, Cas sat down next to him, then swung his backpack around and fished out not one but two sandwiches, each individually wrapped in cling-film. He blinked at Dean and held one out. “Here.”

Dean just stared at him. “Dude, what are you doing?”

“Feeding you.” Cas stated matter-of-factly, and when Dean didn’t immediately take the offered sandwich, he just set it in the older boy’s lap and returned to his bag, digging out two apples and setting one next to Dean’s sandwich. This was followed by a pair of bottles of water. Then he shrugged. “Someone has to do it.”

“But—I—you—this is—”

Cas could sense where this was going. He headed it off at the pass. “It’s not charity, if that’s what you’re worried about. It’s as easy to make two sandwiches as it is to make one.” He was already unwrapping his own sandwich, and paused to glance sideways at Dean before taking a bite; “we’re friends and friends help each other out, right?”

“We are, yeah…” Dean continued looking at him rather oddly while he started to eat, like he was having trouble with the idea of someone doing something so nice for him and not wanting anything in return. Eventually, though, he glanced away, as if suddenly shy, and carefully picked up his own sandwich, unwrapping it and taking a huge bite right off the bat. He was obviously starving. Once that was chewed and swallowed, he cleared his throat and offered, “uh… thanks, Cas.”

Cas shrugged again but gave him a smile. “As long as you don’t mind peanut butter and jelly, I don’t mind sharing with you.”

“…I am not eating the apple. Apples belong in pies.”

The next day Cas started bringing him a fruit cup instead. “It’s close to pie.”

“It’s not even.”

Despite his protests, Dean ate it anyway.

-- --

On top of eating lunch together, it had also quickly become habit for Dean to walk Cas home—mostly because he was very suspicious of James Street and that neighborhood in general, and he didn’t want his only friend to be snatched up by some monster, or even a common-place serial killer. A life of being a Hunter’s son had made him more than a little paranoid when it came to things like that.

Usually Cas made it outside first, and just waited around by one of the retaining walls until Dean emerged from the school a few minutes later, at which point they set out. Cas kept telling Dean he really didn’t need to walk him home, and Dean kept doing it anyway.

Because aside from his paranoia, he really did like Cas, and enjoy spending time with him, possibly too much, really—but walking Cas home also got him away from the crappy motel and his annoying little brother for just a little while longer, which was always a bonus. He was a Hunter, and he had a job to do, his dad drilled that into him all the damn time, but he was also not-quite eighteen and needed distraction every now-and-then.

“You’re quiet.” Dean was always quiet when they were walking down James Street. Cas always tried anyway. “What are you thinking about?”

“I’m thinking it’s going to rain.”

Cas glanced up. It was severely overcast, with storm clouds overhead and the humidity was through the roof. Dean was probably right. “Yeah, probably.” He agreed. “Hey, do you want to walk all the way to my house today? I could introduce you to my Father, if he’s in. We could hang out.”

Dean flashed him a little smile. “I can’t. I’ve gotta get home to Sammy.”

‘Sammy’ was Dean’s younger brother, thirteen from what Dean had told him, and attending Bedwin Junior High. Bedwin was Caspar’s affiliated Junior High, so if they were around long enough, Sammy—Sam—would go to Caspar as well. Dean seemed to feel that they wouldn’t be around that long, though, which was… disappointing. Upsetting, even.

Cas was used to moving around, himself, and in the beginning he had been young and hadn’t known better, he had made friends wherever he went, and then inevitably had to leave them behind. When he got a little older, he started purposefully avoiding making friends, so he wouldn’t have to deal with the pain of losing them.

Now, at Caspar, he had dropped his guard again, and even if his father kept his word and they didn’t move again, and he was able to stay friends with Charlie, Jody and Garth, Dean… he and his brother were in the same boat as Cas had been in previously. So, Cas had gotten to be friends with Dean without even meaning to, gotten close to him, developed a huge crush on him—though he never let it show—and Dean could be leaving any day. It was only a matter of time, really.

Cas had thought that he had hardened himself to the reality of losing friends, considering how he’d grown up, but the thought of Dean taking off just… put a lump in the pit of his stomach. He really had it bad for the older boy, had since Day One, probably, Charlie was right about that much.

But Dean was funny and smart and so attractive, so of course—

Something heavy slammed into Cas’s back right at that moment, the blow cushioned only by the fact that he was wearing his backpack, and Cas yelped out a startled noise even as he tumbled to the ground, landing roughly on the hard pavement.

Whatever had crashed into him was still on top of him—a person, he thought—and scrabbling at him, one hand holding him down by the chest while the other grabbed at his hair and shoved his head to the side. Then they lunged forward and bit into his neck—Cas gave a sharp cry—and abruptly Dean’s voice shouted something unintelligible and he yanked the person off, flinging them away.

When Cas looked up, the person who had attacked him was standing a few feet away, wiping at his mouth and spitting. Dean was between him and Cas and had a huge buck knife in one hand (where had that come from?), holding it at the ready. When the stranger stopped gagging and lunged toward Dean, Dean braced himself and full-body tackled the man, knife flashing—first silver and then red—as he stabbed it into the man over and over again.

After that onslaught, though, and despite being stabbed several times, the stranger wrenched himself away and took off, fleeing into the oncoming storm.

Dean stood where he was for a moment, heaving, before wiping the knife on his jeans and tucking it into the back of his waistband, where Cas assumed it had come from to begin with. Then he hurried back over to Cas and crouched down, hands hovering uselessly. “Shit, Cas, are you okay?”

Cas brought one hand up to the side of his neck where he had been bitten, wiping there before dropping it again to look almost blankly at the blood on his palm. That was about when it started to rain. Dean reached to help him up, and together they got Cas back to his feet. He actually didn’t feel too bad, all things considered.

Dean was already checking out his neck, ignoring the fact that rain was pouring down on them now. “It doesn’t look too bad. It didn’t get you too deep. Could’ve ripped your throat out, you’re lucky.”

“It—what—he bit me—and—you stabbed him and he didn’t even—"

“Cas,” Dean looked him in the eye, deadly serious, and told him firmly, “that was a vampire.”

[andro-studiesmed]

I am supposed to study all of this, but I can't seem to plan or quantify anything for a while now.

May 21, 2023

8:56 Pm

Reading through my old posts and realising that I'm struggling with executive function and task paralysis.

That no matter how much I actually want to, I can't bring myself to start the task?

So in this picture I have my entire first year med school syllabus that I have to cover for my upcoming two months of exams. It's not even the whole syllabus. Just headings of things. The syllabus that I have to mug up/ cover— whatever you want to call it— is atleast ten times more than what I have written up there.

So coming back to the executive dysfunction. I can't seem to figure out how to study, what to study, what to do and what time limits/divisions to do.

The difficult part is the time blindness, I am having a difficult time figuring out the timeline. I can't seem to see time in a way where I can organise accordingly and I know when the exams will near my brain will start working because of the rush and curse me at the same time for not starting earlier.

In one of my earlier posts I have talked about how I used to manage things by dividing time before but that's what I have been struggling with.

What to divide exactly?

The variables keep shifting and I can't have one plan that is gonna stick for a while. Let alone a plan— I am having difficulty with drawing even a broad outline of what my plan is supposed to be really.

The thing is I can work without a plan— and of course it is going to be downright difficult but I can do it to a certain degree. Of course it would be better with an organised plan and my results would be better.

So let's break it down— okay.

I have been passing my anatomy and biochemistry — barely but yes I have been passing.

I've failed all my physiology major exams. Falling short of marks 4-5-6 marks.

Leaving that out of the way —

Let's start with anatomy —

I had initially thought that I should cover the unit abdomen this month but I have really come to realise that felt very overwhelming to the point that I couldn't even look at the book.

And another error is that I forgot to add one unit on the list— that is thorax.

So now I have a total of 6 gross units.

So for anatomy I'll cover thorax along with upper limb.

Then comes physiology — I'll revise the units I have already studied once before at least :

I'll cover Respiratory and cardiovascular.

For biochemistry—

I'll have to cover all the molecules of life or whole of metabolism. What should I do? Molecules of life it is then.

This is a very fucking ambitious task list to keep.

Simply because, we haven't even finished our syllabus in classes right now. Classes are still being taken.

The way my schedule is set up— I have classes from 8 am to 4 pm.

So the bigger question is— how do I divide the time again?

Where I can cover what is being taught in class, complete assignments and also study the previous stuff.

I'll figure it out. I have to figure it out. There is no other choice I have. It's expensive to fail. It very much fucking sucks and I can't curse the system any less than what it deserves.

Oh yes, the first year was only 10 months long. Fuck them.

[nananarc]

Sharing some vague plans for the future (long rant)

I have some long-term projects in mind that i want to be able to work on for the few years at least. Hopefully i can successfully monetize them and be able to make a living for myself doing what i actually love instead of having to take on a corporate job in a shitty company drawing fucking awful shits for awful people.

- a sporadic comic of the daily life of two women living in Hanoi. It's just gonna be a cutesy lovey story. And it's gonna depict the beauty of an ordinary life in my home country. I plan to release lineart version for free, while colored version with extras will be paid. This will allow me to work on the story faster bt dividing it into 2 phase (lineart and then color later), and also allows everyone to have access to my stories.

- nsfw comics: one shots or short series of sexual stories. I have a lot of stories in mind that i want to work on in the future. Stories of angst and fluff alike, but there's gonna be a lot of kinky boinking. I really like telling sexual stories and drawing sensual arts as you can see, so hopefully in the future i can properly share with yall what i have in mind. This is probably gonna be all paid, unfortunately. Nsfw comics are much harder and riskier to work with, so i need to make a living more out of it accordingly.

- some other slice of life comics from waaaay before: i honestly don't know how they are going to play out, but let's just put them here as a self reminder that they still exist lel.

- in the far future, a fantasy epic graphic novel with my sister: thus is more of a passion project at the moment, and it relies on my sister a lot so I can't really say much about it.

- "a complete dummy's guide to drawing" book that covers everything in the process of making art. I strive to cover all the fundamentals and self learn resources for beginners to start drawing. My goal is to provide a framework of thinking so that anyone can self study for art, especially beginner, making art more accessible to everyone. This is a very long term project and I'm only in the very early stage of skeletoning for it. It will be available for free on a pay-what-you-want basis. There are probably something like this already exist, but from my experience, the knowledge and content is very scattered and illogical. I want to give people a more scientific, logical and easier to follow approach to art. So there will be a lot of textbook formatting and havard citing xD well i came from a business background and i found scientific research methods are really convenient in self study. I have not think of a way to make this more profitable tho, especially when it's such an ambitious and long term project. Maybe I'll put it off for another few years before working on it more seriously, when I'm more financially stable. I'll still be writing notes on it on and off as i have been doing for the past couple of years tho.

- zines of artworks and sketchbooks: i plan on compiling more sketches and wips of the past and future into zines to earn some living money out of it. There will also be themed nsfw arts zines that are exclusive, but this is still a very vague idea that i have not hashed out yet.

- paid content will be either available through one time purchase zines, or subscription. Zines are simple to work out, suitable for oneshots, sketchbooks and tutorials. But subscription requires additional maintenance that frankly I'm reluctant to take on. I'm very much not a social person or social media person, and having to consistently giving creations and engaging with people sounds dreadful to me. It's also gonna be tricky to incorporate nsfw and sfw contents in the same subscription so I'll have to work that out in the future if i want to go this route.

- zines and subscription will probably be priced relatively cheap, as I'll mostly be making profits through volume, at least until i figure out a better fitted business model. Something like 5-15$, with nsfw priced higher.

- experimental art project, for a lack of better word: i have some ideas for some experimental shits, some are mixed media with original music and stuff. It will explore old ideas in a new lense, and also explore Vietnamese traditional values as well. I hope to be able to bring the full experience to both offline and online audience, but that's obviously not possible, so I'll try to tweak it so it will still be fun despite on how you experience it. There might be a way to make some money out of it, will figure it out later as i actually work on it. It's gonna be exciting and weird.

- in a far future, I'll open some sort of art mentorship that is based on subscription. I'll be coaching individual over online meetings and personal mentoring, and this is probably gonna be only 1-2 at a time. This is a far future tho.

- I think I'm gonna have a hard time making a living wage for myself considering how niche i am. All the the above are niche at least to a level. So maybe doing commission as active income is still gonna be main income. Even then my audiences are still pretty niche lmaoo but i digress. For the near future, maybe I'll only work for individual clients instead of company due to creative freedom. Not like there will be a line of company begging for me to work for them tho lel it's the opposite.

- i have always been interested in furry arts but never got to really explore this. You'll be seeing more experiment of my art on this in the future. Furries seems to be able to make money more easily too so that's a good thing.

All in all these are just some points I'm telling myself to work on in the future. It's truly hard to find a career here since no one i know irl walk in the same path, so all i do is just fumbling in the dark as i find a way. Tonight i managed to string a few coherent thoughts together so might as well put them down for future reference.

Sorry if i make it all sounds so money and business, but the hard truth is we are living in capitalism and I'm not born into a rich family. I need to be able to live alongside of actually learning how to enjoy living.

Please tell me if you have any comments or suggestions on this, because i really do need the help ahahahahhaa *crying uncontrollably

[jessica-problems]

Les Femmes Damnées: Fuck! Marry! Kill!

Invent a lesbian. Roll 4d6 or pick:

Invent 1-3 more. Relationships between every pair start with 1d6 passion and 1d6 trust. 

Each turn, roll 2d6 for each woman's behavior(see table). Pick who she impacts, adjust their relationship stats accordingly. (Or spend 1 trust to reroll.) Journal the results.

At 15+ Passion: If Trust is 0 or less: Murder Attempt. Whoever has more trusted allies survives & gets -2d6 trust with the other’s allies. If Trust is greater than 0: Marriage. When one cheats, she gets -1d6 trust with her wife. Play until everyone’s dead or married.

Author's Note: I'm really quite proud of this one. Earlier drafts were titled Bad Women Kissing Each Other, and I still can't decide which name I like better. "Invent a lesbian" is possibly my favorite way I have ever introduced the rules of a game. Game length does significantly increase as you add more lesbians. Each additional woman effectively doubles the amount of numbers to keep track of. In playtesting, we found that 3 lesbians was a good sweet spot. I had a whole lot of fun iterating on this idea, figuring out how to express complicated passions in such a tight word count. I'm actively choosing not to spend more time fine-tuning the resource economy. This was supposed to be a fun quick thing and I've already spent almost a week on it. I'm quite proud of how much storytelling I was able to pack into what is basically "roll on this table over and over again". If I had just a few hundred more words, I think I might be able to turn this into something really special.

I also want to thank several very helpful playtesters: Misty, Chills, Neither.nor and Crox, who all gave very good feedback and suggestions. Misty also came up with the *excellent* subtitle. It captures the entire arc of the game in three words.

Counting by hand, and the word count on google docs, both put this at exactly 200 words, including the charts. And I like to think this game uses every one of them to the fullest. The 200-word-rpg official counter puts this at 224 words. As far as I can tell, the difference is in how it divides up math expressions. You have my permission to archive this game offsite. Anyone who wants to also has my full permission to hack this, remix it, or do whatever they want with it. You could get a whole lot of mileage out of just changing the words in the first table.

200 Word RPGs 2024

Each November, some people try to write a novel. Others would prefer to do as little writing as possible. For those who wish to challenge their ability to not write, we offer this alternative: producing a complete, playable roleplaying game in two hundred words or fewer.

This is the submission thread for the 2024 event, running from November 1st, 2024 through November 30th, 2024. Submission guidelines can be found in this blog's pinned post, here.

[themagikmirror]

"Most people think spirituality + magical things are about knowing the future. It's really about staying present...." - Me : The Magik Mirror

🌟Happy August Everyone. Hello, Thank you for following along 💛

I wanted to take some time to really write out explicit content just for this Tumblr page. I've been trying to figure out the best way to navigate having multiple platforms for the same things. Many times that simply looks like copying and pasting everything between sites. I think of it as "expanding my reach", but I also have to consider that although some people may follow along on more than one platform, I still have to find what's unique about each one. For Tumblr, I know pictures and short videos are great, but it seems as if writing is what gets the crowd going. I want to try to be more intentional about that while still mixing in the visual content that most desire. If you enjoy my content written/video/photo don't be afraid to comment on posts or send in request for things you'd like me to discuss, questions you'd like answered and things you wish to see here!

Like Usual, at least as of late, I've pre-recorded an introductory video for the month of August introducing energies, downloads and spirit messages that come in the form of advice, questions for us to ponder on, a little heart to heart and let's not forget readings . Find the link to that video at the end of this post! August 2024 is jam packed with astrological & spiritual activities that will manifest in our physical realities one way or another. My job as a spiritualist is to not just let you know what's on the way, but to give information that could potentially increase benefits and decrease challenges. It's also to help keep us PRESENT. If we were waiting for a climatic moment this summer, I think this month might be it. For me personally, the summer has been a challenging time requiring both strategy and surrender, openness yet protection. I've been managing pains of the past, while simultaneously enjoying the simplicities of the present and setting intentions and high hopes of the future. Summer 2024 definitely feels like a waiting game....

In the 2nd Eclipse of 2024 (Pisces New Moon Solar Eclipse) I discussed how a REBIRTH is starting to occur. Since Fall 2023, I've also spoken on LABOR PAINS. Scroll/Revisit older content both written and recorded to find these moments. Serious, major and permanent changes are unfolding and it's taken about 5 years for us to truly arrive to this sort of "promised land". It doesn't matter what you see online, EVERYONE is going through something and has been through things that are challenging to our morals, psyche and more.

EPHESIANS 6:12

For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.

Something is happening. This month is one where, starting off, we have a mixture of ALL elements (water, earth,air,fire) in the sky. The Sun is in Cancer until mid month. Saturn's retrograde through Aquarius continues. Jupiter & Mars are in Taurus and there's the steady roll call of planets transiting Leo. By the month's end we'll also begin Sidereal Virgo transits and an introduction to Part 2 of 2024's Eclipses. Of course I'll have content translating the meaning of transits & astrological events, but in general I want to introduce the month of August as a month of Realignment, Recommitment, Reawakening. With Leo's energy in the sky we are gifted the power of presence. To be fully in one place at one time. When we don’t allow ourselves to be easily distracted/divided, we can truly tap into to the power of each moment and really live life accordingly. Right now this present moment says :

Get back on track...

Not just with "goals" and to do lists, dieting, exercise and other tangible goals. Get back on track with your Spirit, with your true essence. The nature of why you came here in the first place. Many of us have been fighting internally / externally. But Sometimes, the battle is won not through confrontations, but in transcendence. Remember your Light : who you are/wish to be/have always been. The part that shines brightest and is undeniable. August is a month not just to re-up on good habits & apply pressure if needed, but to get back to YOU. To be fully present with your favorite self and let that natural, effortless light shine through. It's also a time to protect and preserve yourself from anything or anyone who seeks to detract from what the light within wishes to express with out.

When I took these pictures I felt peace and happiness. I felt better. I felt aligned. I felt like I got something I needed when I recorded this video too. I felt centered. I felt ready to face whatever's next because I know that good or bad, it does not have to change the ESSENCE of who I am, the gifts I possess and calling I have on my life. I just have to be present. And that's what I really want us to focus on this month... leaning into your core, your essence, your nature and living more fully with that part of you. Everything else is a distraction meant to consume and take over your light.... ⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️

🕯️Spiritual Work / 1-1 Sessions available by link in bio. Hit "Book Now" button on Facebook or DM with an inquiry! Hope to meet you soon🪞💕

[anya-vc-3438-aod]

Week 9- IMAGINATIVE HISTORY

We learnt how imaginative history is a beneficial instrument in evoking ideas, generating new concepts and conveying enthralling stories. Our first submission was based on research and facts. We had to research on at least 3 historical events from Sri Lankan history and list down the facts, historical figures, the location and time period. After this we sketched out the visuals for one story based on how we imagined the elements to fit into each category. Here is my research and sketches, which is quite messy;

Accordingly, an intriguing assignment we did was a flip book animation based on an amusing piece of history. After researching on countless humorous stories, I settled on one I felt would not only be entertaining but best suited for a flip book animation. My chosen piece of history takes us back to the opium war, in which the Chinese set monkeys on fire and launched them at British ships in an attempt to cause chaos. The most challenging part of this animation was drawing the images consistently as well as drawing many pages if you want a smoother and longer animation. Unfortunately, due to time constraints I couldn't draw as many pages as I would have liked. This was a time-consuming task, yet it was pleasing to see the outcome. First I did a few rough sketches, and then my final attempt;

We also had an amazing session with Shanka. The main focus of Shanaka’s workshop was about how to tell a “Good Story”. I learnt about the vital elements that are required to make a story captivating and memorable to its readers. Firstly, one needs to give your story strong dramatic content, whilst varying rhythm and structure throughout your prose so as to engage the audience. Furthermore, I learnt that one must create believable, memorable characters, that the audience will connect with; for an example Shanaka used character The Joker as an example and in turn stressed the importance of having character arcs too. Other valid facets include the pitch, film form, and film content of a story. It is important to make the important story sections effective and deepen your plot with subplots. Every line of dialogue should count, have a purpose. Additionally, creating a great story should have immersive settings; to put the readers right in the heart of the scene, in its world. It is not just characters that should have personality, but places too. Besides giving place personality, it requires something out of the ordinary to make it truly fascinating, as well as enriching it with detail. An element that was greatly highlighted was creating conflict and tensions in a story. When we think of conflict, we often assume its violence but that is not the case. Shanaka challenged us to give an example of any story (movie, book etc.) that doesn’t have any conflict. Most of us realized that that question was impossible to answer as all stories have to have a conflict, even something as childish as Telly tubbies (which entered the conversation as a possible answer). Next, we were taught the importance of crating beguiling beginnings; and we watched various opening scenes of movies like The Matrix and Jurassic Park, to better understand this notion. Simultaneously, a knockout ending it vital too. A good story ending resolves the primary conflict, rises in tension before giving the reader release, isn’t so tidy that it’s predictable or a cop out, and uses words that convey the sense of an ending. Finally, we learnt about the three-act structure, which is a model used in narrative fiction that divides a story into three parts (or acts), often called the Setup, the Confrontation, and the Resolution. Act one contains the exposition, the inciting incident and the first plot point. Act two illuminates the rising action, midpoint and the second plot point of the story, while act three brings out the pre-climax, climax and the denouncement. Lastly, we learnt the importance of research in creating compelling stories. He taught us the different possibilities of analyzing the story and varying perspectives it can take. For an example in the Lahore attack we were advised to look into the deeper stories of the bus driver and attackers. All in all, it was a thought-provoking session.

In closing our final submission, we had to choose between a flipbook animation, a graphic novel, or a comic strip. I opted for a comic strip. as you may have noticed already, ballet has been a recurrent them in many of my submissions. we were allowed to choose any story from world or Sri Lankan history, so I chose something important to the ballet history. my comic revolves around the life of Misty Copeland, who made ballet history as the first African American Female Principal Dancer with the prestigious American Ballet Theatre. I did a few very rough sketches.

and finally, my comic strip

[darkloversxcb]

✧.* ʀᴜʟᴇs

Disclaimer

This chatbot does not represent and is not affiliated with any of the idols portrayed here. These are fictional characters built around ideas either created by me or inspired by an outside source.

I do not claim to know any of the people personally and this chatbot is only used for entertainment purposes.

The admin is 26+. Anyone under the age of 19 will be blocked and accounts without an age will not be interacted with.

This bot contains various dark themes and NSFW content. Please do not interact if you are uncomfortable with themes such as but not limited to: NSFW speak/images, smoking, drinking, blood, mafia, violence, yandere behaviours, etc.

Unless stated otherwise, none of the pictures/images used are mine. The dividers are from @/cafekitsune and @/firefly-graphics and other images are either from Pinterest or Instagram.

This is a safe space. Hate of any kind is not tolerated, anonymous or otherwise. This isn’t high school, have an issue — solve it like an adult or leave.

Dark Lovers

This is more explained in the ‘Verse’ section. This account is used for games, tags, reblogs and admin communications.

Each character has their own account which is their world and keeps them separate from each other. You are able to interact with them on their own accounts and tag either a specific account or the main for any interaction.

The password is: lover

This chatbot is open to other chatbots, OCs that follow chatbot rules and have set profiles. RP/Y/N are available so please check out the character’s activation.

Effort needs to be equal, if you tag me and I interact — I expect mutual effort. If this does not happen, you will be removed from tags and blocked for a short period of time. If I cannot figure out how to interact, I will support reblog.

Please communicate any concerns or if you just want to chat. I am always open to new thoughts, interactions and am happy to resolve any issues.

Characters

Each character is unique and follows a set plot line that affects their moods and behaviours. Do not try and force them to be different to how they are and do not expect them to give up their world for you.

Some may know about certain things (e.g supernatural) and others may not. They come from different worlds with different rules and may will respond accordingly.

Each character has different rules around interactions so please make sure to read those if wanting to develop any type of relationship with them.

Interactions

Interactions are important, DMs can be started at any time but interactions on dash or through asks are important. This is a huge difference between the character being responsive or them being standoffish.

Friendships are important. All of the characters are open to friendships but DMs for friendships will be selective and used mostly for talking about future posts.

DMs are selective and may be slow at times. This is a hobby and I will not put chatbot over my real life obligations or other commitments.

Each character has a different way of interacting on dash.

Relationships

Relationships take time. Effort needs to be given for the characters to grow interested.

They are not obligated to reciprocate feelings and please do not force yourself onto the characters. Jongin is a yandere, if you are uncomfortable and don’t want to play along with his affections, please let me know ASAP so he can back away.

They have different relationship slots. If a character is poly, the partners are not obligated to know/interact with each other and they will be treated fairly. Again, effort given should be mutual and not everything will be exactly the same.

[irrelevantwriter]

Haven’t You Heard?

Pairing: Eddie Munson (Stranger Things) x Female Reader/You

Rating: SFW (later chapters will contain smut and will be tagged accordingly)

Warnings: Language, banter (i fucking love banter), Eddie swinging his feet while sitting on a counter (*whispers* baby girl)

Word Count: 1207

Summary: Part 2. You encounter Eddie in the least likely of places. 

A/N: Here’s part two in my Flattery Will Get You Everywhere series. We got more cute shit and more flirting. You will come to see that I fucks with banter as a form of flirting and foreplay. Hope you guys like it. Enjoy and share with your friends! Feedback is that good shit.💗

Disclaimer: As always, reader inserts are true reader inserts. If you find any specifics in regards to reader’s appearance, kindly let me know and I will fix that.

*Check out my other Eddie fics here

*Read Part 1 here

*Find future chapters here

***********************

“Are you serious Brenda?”

You asked the question, but you didn’t expect a real response. Mostly because you’d asked her the same exact question three times within the last hour.

You were on your way to the AC/DC concert, an event you had planned for months. And for some godforsaken reason unbeknownst to you, your friend had decided she needed to stop by Family Video to take back the VHS she’d rented a week ago.

“You know if I don’t they’ll charge me and my parents will be pissed,” she explained, hardly affected by your attitude.

You rolled your eyes but acquiesced. The show wasn’t far and you had enough time to get in and out.

Brenda made a hard right into the parking lot of the video store, barely stopping in enough time to not drive over the cement divider.

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered, peeling your finger off the door handle as she came to a complete stop. “Who gave you your fucking license?”

“Hawkins DMV. After the third try,” she boasted. As if that was worth bragging about.

“Be quick,” you ordered as you touched up your lipstick, seeing her grab the VHS and open her car door.

“You’re coming.”

At your blank expression she went on.

“I want some candy. Red vines. They got ‘em inside.”

You rolled your eyes, not bothering to hide the gesture. You also decided not to argue. You were already there so you might as well. You could pick up your own candy too. Plus, Brenda would get bitchy if she didn’t get her Red Vines.

You begrudgingly got out of the car and made your way to the front door, seeing a few figures behind the glass. The door chimed as you both passed through, Brenda making a beeline for the counter. You noticed Steve Harrington there with a girl, the both of them donning vests with the store’s logo. What you weren’t expecting to see was Eddie Munson sitting on top of the counter, legs dangling as he talked with a younger kid in a baseball cap that said “BYTE ME”.

When he finally noticed you, he was startled, looking at you for a long moment before believing you were really there. He waved, the action hesitant as the boy beside him spoke  too low for you to hear, but you could tell it was full of emotion. Whatever he was saying.

You waved back, making your way over as Brenda handled her movie situation. You hadn’t seen Eddie since that party at Reefer Rick’s nearly a month ago. You’d thought about him quite a bit in that time. Thought about how your friends were right. He was sweet. And you liked that about him. Whether or not he’d ever wanna mix it up with the likes of you was a different story. You’d heard he’d harbored a crush on Chrissy Cunningham. And while the girl was cute, she was safe. A person who always erred on the side of caution.

And that wasn’t you.

“Hi,” Eddie announced a little too loudly when you finally made it over to him. The boy next to him rolled his eyes, apparently unimpressed by the greeting.

“Hey…no sacrificing of virgins today?” you teased.

“Thursday’s, remember?” he retorted, putting a finger to his own head and tapping.

“Oh yeah…must’ve gotten it mixed up with my weekly orgies,” you threw back, belatedly realizing the boy was still standing near you both. “Shit, sorry,” you amended, wincing as Eddie laughed.

“No worries. This is Dustin. He’s good people. Also a fellow devil worshiper and member of Hellfire,” he explained, shaking Dustin’s shoulder with more enthusiasm than the young boy appreciated.

Dustin shook off Eddie’s touch and smiled at you, his eyes momentarily dropping to the black bustier top you wore. You hadn’t exactly been expecting to walk into Family Video looking like this.

You’d worn head to toe black. Your pants were leather and tight as shit. It’d taken you nearly fifteen minutes just to shimmy them on. A price you were willing to pay. You’d thrown a cropped denim jacket on over the glorified bra, more for practicality than any need for modesty. You looked ready to go to a concert. And you were suddenly very aware of that fact.

Eddie noticed Dustin’s stare and punched him in the shoulder, signaling for him to get lost. After a silent conversion passed between the two, Dustin tipped his hat at you and took off towards Steve Harrington on the other side of the counter.

“Sorry about him. He’s special,” Eddie whispered, making you laugh.

“S’okay. I wasn’t really prepared to come here,” you gestured to your outfit, feeling somewhat sheepish. That might’ve been a first for you.

“So this isn’t your quiet night in with a movie ensemble?”

You shook your head, smiling as he teased you.

“Well for the record, you look great,” he added, voice lowered and infused with sincerity.

You bit your lip, feeling like a googly-eyed schoolgirl. “Thanks, Munson.”

A meaningful gaze passed between you both before you broke it. You looked for Brenda, suddenly uncomfortable with Eddie’s vulnerability. And your own.

You found her at the counter, now flirting with Steve while the other girl in the vest and Dustin restocked shelves. You rolled your eyes at Brenda, knowing that despite her having a boyfriend, she’d never pass up a chance to flirt.

“Where you guys headed anyway?”

Eddie’s voice brought you back, focusing on him again and the juvenile way he kicked his legs out from atop the counter. It was just like at Reefer Rick’s party. Deja vu.

“Indianapolis. For the AC/DC show,” you supplied, fumbling with your purse.

His eyes widened and his lips broke out into a wide grin, energy suddenly radiating off him like a toddler.

“No shit! That’s awesome! How’d you score those tickets?”

“Brenda’s uncle. He knows a guy who knows a guy. Supposedly.”

“Hey!” you both turn in the direction of the voice, seeing it was Brenda waving you over.

“Shit, I was supposed to grab some candy,” you hastily explained, getting your wallet out so you could make a mad dash for the candy aisle.

“Have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Eddie joked, wagging a finger at you in a mock sternness.

You giggled and began to back away as Brenda’s calls grew in impatience.

“Haven’t you heard, Munson? I do it all,” you flirted, disappearing with a wink.

You didn’t bother with the candy. You told Brenda you’d buy her drinks at the venue and a meal afterwards to compensate. You did it mostly to get her off your back about flirting with Eddie. She’d noticed at the party and at the Family Video. She encouraged your pursuit. The funny thing was, you hadn’t even realized it was a pursuit. You’d just been enjoying his company, but the more you thought about it, the more you definitely wanted to have sex with Eddie Munson.

“You’re going to fuck him, aren’t you?” Brenda asked, sipping from her Big Gulp cup.

You looked out the window, hearing Hells Bells play over the radio. The song made you think of Eddie and you smiled.

“Yeah, I am.”

[miraculouscontent]

Marinette was officially done with Hawk Moth interfering in her life. She could take him interrupting school, or her time out with friends (which had become increasingly awkward as of late anyway), or even her moments of being bogged down with projects.

But interrupting her one-on-one time with Luka? First their movie date and now their moment of getting ice cream together? Absolutely not.

As far as she was concerned, this meant war. If Hawk Moth wanted to shove himself into her life like a nosy busybody who couldn’t go five seconds without trying to take away her means of happiness, then fine.

Two could play at that game, and she was feeling petty enough to make the next move. She’d had to mull over the subject for a while to figure anything out, not to stop him for good exactly, but at least put an annoying dent in his plans, much like he always did with her.

She had an idea by evening, and got to put it into action right after school. She was saying good-bye to a few of her friends, and had hopped onto the back of Luka’s bike afterwards, her hands carefully on his waist while he rode off along the sidewalk.

A flicker of black and purple caught her eye, and instead of the usual dread or panic, she grinned to herself.

“Luka! Stop!”

He stiffened, but obeyed, putting full force on the brakes and screeching the bike to a sudden halt.

“What’s wrong?” he asked in concern.

Hurriedly getting off the bike, she took off her helmet and handed it to him. “I’m sorry, will you wait here for a few minutes? I promise I’ll be right back!”

Knowing she had to be quick, she didn’t wait for him to reply. She placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning in to place a long, meaningful kiss on his cheek.

If he had prepared a reply, the kiss stopped it, and she ran off to the nearest hiding place while he stared blankly ahead at nothing.

After ducking into an alley and taking a quick look around to ensure it was safe, Marinette opened her purse to let out Tikki, as well with the other kwami necessary for her plans: Kaalki.

“Let’s do this!”

— — — — —

Soon after Pegabug had entered the scene, giving chase to the akuma, Chat Noir wasn’t far behind. Part of her questioned how he’d gotten there so soon, but she squashed the thought just as quickly as it’d come so as to not dwell on the potential identity questions.

“Love the new look, m’lady. What’s the occasion?” he asked in his usual flirtatious tone. “Or did you dress up just for me?”

“Not now, Chat,” she replied shortly, adjusting her sunglasses as she neared the butterfly in question. “I need you to do something for me.”

“Of course! Anything.”

“When I give the command, grab the akuma.”

“I—” He blanked. “Grab it?”

“I’ll explain later,” she assured. Squinting at the butterfly, which seemed to be on a straight path, she felt the moment hit like the epiphany of her Lucky Charm. “Now!”

Slightly panicked, but not asking anything more, Chat Noir sped forward. He dropped to all fours to pick up speed, then leapt for the butterfly. In a swift motion, he trapped the akuma between his hands, and Pegabug reeled her hand back as she felt the charge of her power.

“Voyage!”

The portal launched from her hands, manifesting right in front of Chat Noir. He went through and she followed behind him.

On the side of the portal, she landed politely on her feet while he crashed onto the floor, though he managed to keep the akuma contained in his hands.

A startled Wang Cheng stood up from his chair, looking between the two in surprise, but he calmed himself soon after. “It is time?”

“Yes,” she confirmed, walking over and helping Chat up due to his inability to use his hands.

He shook himself of the impact, then glanced at Wang, Pegabug, and finally the night sky out the window. “M’lady, if he means time to explain why you catapulted us to China, then I’m all ears.” His fake cat ears twitched in emphasis.

“Not exactly, but we can do that too,” she assured. Closing her eyes, she whispered a quick, “Kaalki, divide,” to allow the horse part of her transformation to drop. Pulling out her yoyo to grab a treat, she offered it to Kaalki to let her recharge before addressing the issue properly.

“Chat, you remember Wang,” she stated, walking alongside Wang as they traversed the rooms of the house. Hearing Chat’s footsteps behind her, she continued, “We saved him after he was akumatized into Kung Food.”

“Yeah, I remember,” Chat confirmed, still just as puzzled as before.

“Well, he’s the only one I know who’s out of the country.” She grinned slyly. “And out of Hawk Moth’s radius.”

Chat tilted his head. “Radius?”

Ladybug waited to answer until she saw the little habitat that had been set up, exactly as she’d asked for. Wang opened it for her and stepped aside, then gestured to it, which gave Chat enough of a hint to approach and outstretch his arms so they were inside the mini enclosure.

He hesitated, but released the akuma and recoiled quick enough for Ladybug to snap the habitat shut, thus sealing the butterfly inside.

“The butterfly miraculous has limits,” she explained, pointing to the trapped akuma, “and this is one of them. Hawk Moth can’t sense or do anything with this akuma from this distance, and he’s only allowed one at a time.”

“Meaning...?”

“Meaning that he can’t make another until this one breathes its last breath.” She tossed a grateful smile Wang’s way. “So please take good care of it, sir.”

Wang bowed his head in respect. Chat, meanwhile, was gaping.

“Wait, so that means—?”

“It might not be long,” she admitted, “because we don’t know how old this butterfly is, but—” She raised a finger as she made her point. “—as long as it lives and kept in that habitat, he can’t akumatize anyone.”

With a confident walk, she made her way back to the room they’d originally come from.

Chat, still in a state of shock, followed after and kept pace with her. “What about sentimonsters?”

Ladybug shrugged. “Mayura can still send them if she wants, but it’ll go just as badly.”

“Why?”

“For one, sentimonsters follow the orders of the one with the object, and no akuma means that Hawk Moth doesn’t have any control. For two, if I can teleport the feather away before Mayura can de-power it herself, then she’s stuck with no sentimonster for even longer than the akuma. Feathers take a few months to wear out, and I think they know that. Once they realize the risks, I don’t think we’ll be seeing any sentimonsters all by themselves.”

Stopping at the spot where she’d made the portal originally, she tossed a smile Kaalki’s way and outstretched her hands accordingly, calling upon her transformation once again with, “Tikki, Kaalki, unify!”

Chat didn’t even flinch at the flash of light, staring at the floor instead as he scratched his head. “But—uh—” He paused, needing a moment to come up with more questions. “what if Mayura makes her own sentimonster again?”

“Then I’m sending it to the moon,” she answered nonchalantly. “If they want to waste my time like this, then I’m not messing around anymore. Either they come fight me themselves or I’m keeping every akuma and feather I can here, where they can’t do anything with them.”

He opened his mouth, perhaps to throw out another argument, but she’s stumped him. His lips pursed as he seemed deep in thought, which evolved into a pout as he asked, “So, I guess we won’t be spending as much time together?”

“What?” Pegabug raised a brow, thrown off by that being his concern.

“A-ah—” He seemed to catch himself, waving his hands in defense. “Nothing, m’lady! You’re a genius, as always, and we still have patrols!”

“...Thanks,” she said neutrally, her mind on anything but him even as he tried to flirt.

After all, there was someone waiting for her back in Paris.

— — — — —

“Luka!”

Marinette beamed in both gratefulness and relief as she saw Luka still in the same spot as before, and even in the same position as well. She ran up to him, grabbing his shoulder again with one hand while she took her helmet back with the other.

She kissed his cheek again, a little more lightly than before but with just as much affection. The contact seemed to bring him back to life, his smile returning to his face as he settled his hands back on the bike’s handles.

“Did everything work out alright?” he asked.

“Mhm. I was just—” She paused, a lie almost reflexively coming out of her mouth before she settled on the closest thing to the truth she could, deciding that he deserved as much. “—taking care of something. Hopefully it works out.”

“Knowing you, I bet it will,” he assured with a fond look.

She beamed at him and put her helmet back on, settling herself behind him on his bike so her hands could rest on his waist again. She heard the ‘clink’ of the kickstand as Luka nudged it up with his heel, and then they were off again.

Happy thoughts of Hawk Moth screaming in his lair as he discovered her plan slowly transitioned into blissful imaginings of all the uninterrupted dates she could go on now. Out of sight, out of mind, just as Hawk Moth deserved to be.

[tranquiltatsumi]

Ensemble Stars!! Music Song Event Guide

I know some people said they needed this so here is a guide to song events in Enstars! If any other experienced players notice I missed something please let me know!

Due to a 10 picture limit on tumblr is have put numbered boxes around things I'm explaining if a picture has more than one thing, and will be numbering explanations accordingly.

This is the number of points you've gained for the event. Points are gathered by playing regular lives and the event oive- I'll explain that in a bit. This is a nice easy way to see how close you are to your goal.

This takes you to the screen that lists event rewards. I'll go into detail on that further down.

This takes you to the page for the event gacha- using cards from this in your stage will reward you extra points in the event. It's 20% extra points for the 5*, through to 150% for 6 copies; 5% for the 4*, through to 50%; 1% for the 3*s, through to 5%.

This is the number of event passes you have. I'll explain that in a bit.

This takes you to the page for regular lives, which lists all available songs.

This takes you to the page for the event live, which is one song. Playing this song requires 100 passes at least, though you can play with 500, or later in the event 1000. You get more points for playing this song than regular lives.

This is the event reward list, which shows all rewards and the point requirements.

This shows the next card reward you can get from the event, and how many points until you get it.

This is all of the rewards, split into 6 pages. You can scroll down on this.

This is page 3, with the 5* card listed on it. As you can see, to get this card you need 3,500,000 (3.5 million) points. This can seem overwhelming, and the first few times you play an event it definitely is! But once you know what you're doing its much easier!

If you wish to get the 5* card, the amount of effort and diamonds you'll need varies depending on team strength (more on that in a bit). You're not likely to have super strong teams right now, so it's more likely you'll need around 16,000 diamonds to get this card- a stronger team means less dia. The least I've ever spent on an event song 5* is around 800 in JPstars, which translates to 8,000 in engstars.

As for the rate of gaining points, it's best to split this up over the days the event lasts. I never know exactly how long they last in JP as I'm awful at time maths but it seems? like this lasts around 8/8.5 days. It's easiest to split the points into 7, which means getting 500,000 a day. You can choose whether to do this all in one go or over the course of the day. I usually do it in one sitting as it causes less fatigue, but I know people who spread it out too.

To figure out spreading it, you're gonna need a little maths. Play at least one song at however many BP you wish to play at- whether that be 1 or 10 (more on that later) and from the amount of points you get, figure out how many lives you will need to play per day (500,000/the number of points you get per song, and then round up) . Now depending on if you wish to wake up when your BP refills figure out the number of free BP refills you get per day (it refills every 5 hours), and take this way from the number of lives you need to play, and then divide that number by the number of free refills. So for example if I get 50k points with 10BP then I would need to play 10 lives a day at 10BP to get 500k. I don't wake up for events so I'm assuming there's 15 hours a day for me to play, which is 3 refills, leaving 7 dia lives. Dividing that by 3 is uneven, so I'll split it unevenly. My first two free BP refills I would play 3 lives (one free and two with dia) and then for my final I would play 4 (one free and three with dia), adding up to 10 in total. This doesn't take into account event lives because I have dyscalculia and I can't do that kind of maths lol. my best advice would be to use your event passes at the end of the day, and then do the maths again with the amount left to get the next day.

You can use up to 10BP for regular lives during events, who u can be changed by the pink button next to the live start button. You will get 10x the amount of event points for this with 9x less work. I definitely recommend utilising it!!

This number here is the total score for your whole stages cards put together (not including support cards). This will increase as you get better cards, level them up and max their idol roads. For now it's likely fairly low. Picture of my strongest JPstars stage included for comparison.

An easy way to increase this total a little is to match the stage attributes to the song. It's unlikely that you'll have a whole team of strong cards in any attribute yet, let alone all of them, but this can be built over time. I'd recommend setting up preliminary teams named after the attributes with whatever cards of them you have, ready to build those teams when you have good cards.

Attributes are in the top corner of the cards, and next to the song name. A stage of all blue cards will give you higher points on blue songs, etc. etc. The total at the bottom of the team will change for every song, so put all your strongest cards onto one stage now regardless of attribute and go through the songs to see which your strongest is. Stick with this for the duration of the event.

This is the event live page, which will allow you to play the event song. Event passes work the same way as BP, with 100 passes being equivalent to playing with 1BP. You do, however, get more points for playing this live than regular lives. I think it's 500% more for event live vs regular live? (idk I failed GCSE maths)

That should be enough to get you through it, but if you have any questions I'll do my best to answer/ find out! Good luck and godspeed, Producers!

(Below is a picture of the rate up for the event gacha! it wouldn't let me add this further up bc mobile sucks)

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers DARK FATE ー Ruki Heaven [01]

ー The scene starts in Yui’s bedroom

Yui: ( Today the award ceremony for the school’s English Speech Contest is being held. )

( Honestly, I can’t believe he won...Ruki-kun truly is amazing. )

( I heard he will do a speech in English at the ceremony, so I can’t wait already. )

*Rustle*

Yui: ...Voila. I’m all ready, so I suppose I’ll go check up on Ruki-kun. 

ー The scene shifts to Ruki’s room

*Knock knock*

Yui: Ruki-kun, I’m coming in. Are you all set to go?

Ruki: No...Wait just a few more minutes.

Yui: ( This is new. I can’t believe he’s delayed with his preparations... )

*Rustle rustle*

Yui: ( ...Ah. Seems like he’s getting ready while holding the script in one hand. I guess that’s why he’s taking a little longer than usual. )

( I thought he was just naturally gifted at everything, but I guess he does study like this too. )

( He’s actually quite the hard worker. ...I love that side of him as well though. )

Ruki: Sorry for the wait. Shall we go? 

Yui: Yeah. Well then ーー Ah. 

Wait, Ruki-kun. You have to fasten your necktie properly for today.

Ruki: Hm? I don’t see the problem? In the end, it’s an intraschool event, so there really is no need to get so formal. 

Yui: That’s not true! You’ll be getting on stage, so you have to dress accordingly!

Ruki: Why are you the one the most excited about this...? 

...Aah, right. I suppose I’ll have you fix it then.

Yui: Your tie, you mean?

Ruki: I’m busy reading through the script. I can’t divide my attention between both tasks.

So...You should do it for me, Yui. 

Yui: I-I don’t mind...

Ruki: I’ll be counting on you then. 

ー She moves closer

Yui: ( Umー I’m pretty sure I should... )

*Rustle rustle*

Yui: ( Come to think of it, it’s been so long since I last tied someone’s necktie. )

( I’ve tied Father’s in the past out of simple curiosity though... )

( I didn’t think Ruki-kun would end up being the second person on that list. )

*Rustle rustle*

Yui: ( Pull this part through here, then... )

*Flip*

Ruki: ... 

Yui: ( Ruki-kun sure seems concentrated. )

( I probably shouldn’t break his focus. We still have some time, so I’ll keep quiet for a bit even if I’m done fixing his tie. )

( Besides...He looks rather handsome with a serious expression on his face, so I wouldn’t mind enjoying the view a little longer... )

Ruki: ...You are giving me a rather passionate gaze today?

Yui: Ah...! I’m sorry, did I disturb you?

Ruki: I wouldn’t say ‘disturb’ per se, but I can’t focus like this. I can’t help but notice you’re staring. 

The fact you tied my tie the wrong way bothers me as well.

Yui: Eh? R-Really?

Ruki: You wrapped it around the wrong way. You were supposed to do it from the back. 

Yui: Ah...I see. No wonder the knot looked a little odd. 

Ruki: Heh...I assume you don’t do this very often?

Yui: Uu...The girl’s uniform has a ribbon after all...

Ruki: That’s not what I meant.

ーー I just felt relieved knowing you haven’t been doing this for other men.

Yui: I-I haven’t...! ...Ah.

Ruki: ...Have you, perhaps? 

Yui: F-For my Father! Besides, I was still a child back then...

Ruki: Which means I’m not the first man.

Yui: ( The way he puts that... )

Ruki: Oi, Yui. Untie my necktie.

Yui: Ehーー Wah!?

*Thud*

*Creaaak*

Yui: ( ...He pushed me down on the bed... )

Ruki: Come on, hurry up.

Yui: R-Ruki-kun, what has gotten into you...?

Ruki: I just figured I would check off one of the firsts on your list.

I’m sure you’ve never loosened a man’s tie on top of the bed...Have you?

Yui: ...!

U-Um...We should probably go to school soon or...

Ruki: We’re scratching our plans for today. We’re staying home. 

Yui: Eeh!? But there’s the award ceremony...!

Ruki: I’m sure they’ll manage even without me. Howeverーー 

You need me. Aren’t I right? 

Yui: ( ...When he says that, there’s nothing I can say in response... )

Ruki: You’re not going to do it? In that case, I don’t mind giving a different option. 

Between untying it yourself...or watching me do it, which do you prefer? 

Take your pick. If you don’t know how to loosen itーー 

ーー I’ll gladly assist you. With these hands.

Yui: R-Ruki-kun...

Ruki: ...Heh. I guess you’re still not quite ready for this. 

It can’t be helped. I’ll do it today. Be sure to watch closely, okay? 

Yui: ...

*Rustle rustle*

Yui: ( It’s honestly such a normal action, but for some reason, when it’s Ruki-kun doing it, I get super flustered... )

Ruki: Lift your face, Yui...

ー He kisses her

Yui: ...Nn...

*Creaaak*

Ruki: ...Nn...

Next time...I’ll have you do it, okay?

Yui: Nn...Ruki-kun...Are you sure we shouldn’t go to school...?

Ruki: I said it’s fine. More importantly, right nowーー

*Rustle rustle*

Ruki: This moment spent with you is much more precious... 

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

[ Heaven 02 ] ->

[tuiccim]

Terrigenisis (Part 20)

Pairing: Stucky x Inhuman!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.7K

Summary: After undergoing terrigenisis unwillingly your life is turned upside down when you are deemed too dangerous to return to life as a civilian. You are put with the Avengers team to train and rebuild. As you hone your powers and skills, you must also decide if you can find home and love again. Or is your curse to be a lonely wanderer forever?

Warnings: Fluff, Smut (NSFW 18+)

Dividers by @firefly-graphics​

Terrigenisis Series Masterlist

The following afternoon, the entire team is back at the compound and doing a team training session. You, Steve, and Bucky use the opportunity to announce your engagement. Your teammates are excited and hugs and well wishes surround you. 

“Can I be the flower girl?” Wanda jokes as she hugs you. 

“Dizzy’s already claimed that honor,” you laugh.

“Alright, alright! Let’s get to work. We need to be in perfect sync for the mission.” Steve redirects everyone’s attention. 

“You got it, Cap!” you salute him as you get into position. Two hours later, you break from the drills and begin to disburse when you pull up your phone. “What the hell?” you say as you see your social media had blown up with comments and messages. You pull up your feed and begin reading. You can feel the color drain from your face. 

“Doll, are you okay?” Bucky is the first to notice you frozen in shock. 

“I… the… I don’t understand.” You feel like throwing up reading the words whore, slut, and many other disgusting slurs left on your account. Bucky pulls your phone from your hand and looks at it. 

“What the fuck?” He yells.

Steve speeds over and looks at the phone that Bucky holds out to him. 

“I don’t understand,” you say again, trembling. Bucky puts his arms around you. 

“Uhhh, guys,” Tony says as he pulls up a video.

The spokesman for one of the biggest celebrity tabloids flashes a picture of Steve and Bucky on the screen and says, “Speculation has always run wild on the love life of Captain America, Steve Rogers, and The Winter Soldier, Bucky Barnes, but they’ve always kept it hush-hush. Now, a source close to the Avengers has come forward to give us the down and dirty details. Allegedly, our shield throwing hero doesn’t have just a girlfriend, but a boyfriend as well. Way to play both sides, Captain. We’ve been told that Captain America is dating none other than his two teammates, The Winter Soldier and Artemis, the newest member of the Avengers.”

“Artemis! The fuck?” you exclaim as a picture of the three of you is displayed on the screen. 

“Seen here at one of Tony Stark’s exclusive parties, the three have allegedly been dating for several months. But, according to our source, two men aren’t enough for the voracious Artemis, she’s also in a relationship with none other than the villainous Loki of Asgard,” the spokesman continues. Another picture from the party flashes up of you and Loki laughing together. Your stomach is rolling as this apparently isn’t the end of the slanderous story, “Artemis, an Inhuman with the skills of a linguist and animal trainer, joined the team a year ago and has apparently had her hooks in every man she’s come across since then. Our source claims she had affairs with Tony Stark, Clint Barton, and Sam Wilson before settling on the three she dates now. There is also some speculation surrounding the death of her first husband. Is she the real black widow of the Avengers?”

The video ends and you clutch your stomach, “I’m gonna be sick.” Running to the bathroom, you barely make it to the toilet before you lose your lunch. Bucky and Steve are right behind you. 

“Doll, it’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.” Bucky soothes as he rubs your back. 

You sit back against the wall and begin to sob. Steve pulls you into his lap and Bucky’s arms surround you both. 

“It’s gonna be okay, sweetheart. We’ll fix this.” Steve says as he rubs your back. 

“We’ll get through it, doll. Whatever we have to do. We won’t let this stand.” Bucky reassures you. 

When the sobs begin to subside, you look at the two of them and nod. They help you stand and you wash out your mouth. When you return, the team is still standing around together. 

“Okay, kids. Artie is on his way and formulating a plan as we speak to work this out. We’ll demand a retraction of the slander. The PR team is going through your social media and deleting and blocking any negative comments. There are several groups who are rallying behind you all and your relationship. We’ve got your back, kid.” Tony puts a hand on your shoulder and you nod weakly. 

Wanda hugs you and you nearly break down again. Natasha looks as if she’s plotting murder with Clint. You notice Sam is missing. 

“Let’s go to our room and rest until Artie gets here. It’ll probably be a long meeting.” Bucky suggests. 

“Yeah, okay,” you follow his lead out. Shortly after the three of you get to your room there’s a knock on the door. Steve opens it and lets Sam into the room. 

“I, uh… I’m so sorry.” Sam stutters uncharacteristically and can’t quite meet your eyes. 

“Kaziah,” you state.

“Yeah. I’m pretty sure. I’m so sorry. I swear I never said anything like that to her. I would never disrespect you like that.” Sam explains. 

“It’s not your fault, Sam,” you reassure him. 

“But I did tell her about you guys. And how you lost Charlie and became an Inhuman. I’m so sorry.” 

“You trusted her. I’m so sorry she betrayed you like that,” you hug Sam’s neck. “I know you must be so hurt that she did that. Maybe she was jealous about our torrid love affair.”

Sam breaks a smile, “I do have a way with the ladies.” 

“Your spirit is unbreakable. Already cracking jokes,” Steve puts his arms around you. 

“I think it’s laugh or cry at this point. I’d rather laugh. I’m sure there will be more tears later,” you say. “I need a shower.”

“That’s my cue to leave.” Sam quips. 

“Sam,” you call. 

“Can you tell Tony, please? He can probably find out for sure.” 

“Yeah. Of course.” Sam exits. 

“Alright, doll. Let’s get that shower.” Bucky pulls you into the bathroom. You stand under the spray minutes later with Bucky and Steve on each side of you. You wash each other gently, sharing soft touches and loving caresses. No matter what anyone ever says about your relationship and your love, you will never give up these two men. The loves of your life. 

Your stomach twists for a moment. Loving Steve and Bucky does not negate your love of Charlie. The accusation of killing him was what hurt more than anything else. If it hadn’t been for Terrigenisis you would still most likely be happily married to Charlie. It reaffirms to you that perhaps there really is a reason that everything happens. Which means there is a reason for this happening. You just couldn’t figure out what it was quite yet. 

“Team meeting in the conference room, immediately.” Friday chimes into your thoughts. 

Ten minutes later, the team is sitting around the conference table facing Artemus "Artie" Pithins, Director of Public Relations, and Tony. 

“We apparently have another Artemis now.” Artie chuckles as he greets you. 

“Wasn’t my decision but if it means I am as formidable as you I’m honored,” you smile as you shake Artie’s hand. 

“Charming under pressure. I love it. We’ll get through this.” Artie reassures you. When everyone is seated Artie addresses the team, “I’d like to begin by telling you all, we have confirmed the source of the leak and that person is being dealt with accordingly. Next, I give this story no credence, but I do need to go through it piece by piece to confirm what is truth and what is lies.”

“We understand.” Steve affirms.

“Are you in a polyamorous relationship as described?” Artie addresses Steve. 

“Yes,” Steve replies. 

“I see. Sgt. Barnes and our newly dubbed Artemis are your boyfriend and girlfriend?” Artie asks. 

“No, they’re my fiancees.” Steve counters. 

“Oh, Congratulations.” Artie’s wheels are turning as he continues down his list of questions. He turns to you next, “Are you in any type of relationship with Prince Loki Odinson?”

“He’s a close friend and my training partner,” you say calmly. 

“But no romantic relationship now or previously?” Artie confirms.

“No,” you reply. 

“Mr. Stark, are you now or have you ever been in a sexual relationship-”

“No, never.” Tony interrupts rolling his eyes. 

“Mr. Bar-”

“No,” Clint says curtly.

“Also, no.” Sam pipes in before the question can be asked. 

“And the last claim I won’t even dignify. That will be retracted with an apology if I have anything to say about it. I know this is not the most couth question but I need to ask. Have any of the three of you had a sexual relationship with another teammate?” Artie states.

“No,” the three of you say practically in unison. 

“Well, then I think we have the perfect solution already in the works. We’ll need the two of you to do a couple of interviews to dispel the rumors and we’ll use that time to also announce the wedding of Captain America and Artemis.” Artie smiles at you. 

“You mean the three of us, Captain America, The Winter Soldier, and Artemis,” you say. 

“The polyamorous relationship is not going to play well, but if we can shift the story from that relationship to the romance that grew out of you joining the team and throw a spectacular wedding, we’ll have nothing to worry about it,” Artie explains.

“No,” you say, looking between Steve and Bucky. 

“Let’s reconvene in two hours. Take the time to discuss it. You have a lot to consider.” Artie closes the meeting. 

Back in your room, you sit on the couch with your head in your hands. 

“Doll?” Steve sits beside you and puts a hand on your back. 

You look up at him, “Do you want to go through with this charade? Leave Bucky out of the ceremony? Everything this entails?”

“I’m pretty sure I’d be best man in Stevie’s wedding no matter what,” Bucky tries to lighten the mood. 

“You should be a groom in it, baby,” you counter.

“I know, I know, doll,” Bucky sits on the other side of you, “But it’d just be a show for the public. We can have a ceremony with just our friends after. Or before. However you want.”

“Is that what you think, Stevie?” you ask.

“Here’s what I’m thinking…”

Part 21

Tuiccim’s Masterlist

Updates and taglist: Due to the unreliable nature of tags, I no longer keep a taglist. Updates for series are made weekly. Please follow my sideblog @tuiccimfanfiction​​ and turn on notifications for updates. All series and new stories will be reblogged to it. You will only receive notifications when a new part or story is out! Nothing else will be blogged to the page. I can’t thank you enough for your support!

[valewright67]

Ok, so for the holidays, I'm visiting my grandparents a state over, and they have goats. (Guys they were so cute and playful and fluffy, I loved them so much--) and long story short I got an idea.

First of all, Meliodas grows out his hair to "throw people off his tail" but in reality, the guy missed longer hair, and he was too lazy to chop it. (You cannot convince me that half the reason his hair is so messy isnt because he does it himself.) This particular part is entirely self indulgent because Ponytail Meliodas got me screaming.

So first of all, ESCANOR was the one who found Hawk and decided to create a bar as a cover for himself. He called it "My Sweet Gluttony" of course.

Meliodas on the other hand, he woke up (powers intact, but sealing them within himself for subtlety) in the middle of a herd of wild goats. He blinks, looks around at them and shrugs. He can make this work, it wouldn't even be his first time being a goatherd.

As a magical creature himself, rather than a human (who is the clan most disconnected from nature and magic) He tamed the goats pretty quickly. Well, sort of. They listened to him, but it was more of a mutual respect and understanding than anything else.

He gave into sentimentality as he named them. The one who'd woken him up by chewing on his hair was, quite amusedly, stained pink from getting messy with some wild berries. He named this one Little Goat, and he had a dappled beige and creme coat. Original, he knows, but Gowther was his brother, in a way. Upon seeing the tan Goat that tried his best to wrangle the young ones, he dubbed that one Goat Dad.

All the goats, eight in total:

Sunny was a light Grey goat that had a sense of PRIDE as he not quite strutted around, and he flirted with a white goat he named Lisa. The Grey one reminded him of Mael, just a little.

There was another, slightly darker, Grey goat he dubbed Rossa, after the eldest of his younger brother. Mostly because he and Sunny, for whatever reason, fought each other constantly, usually over a very done with it Lisa.

Then there was Dris and Lucy, both of which were black, but Lucy had white markings. They also disliked eachother, but usually just avoided each other instead of fighting. They were attached to Rossa and Sunny accordingly. He thought it was funny how they divided themselves into little cliches.

Little Goat was trying to court a light brown goat he named Nadia. He seemed to like her calm, affectionate demeanor, and she liked his dorkish antics.

Glox was the most laid back of them all, with a dappled fur pattern of varying shades of brown. He was pretty content to hang out with an almost as laid back dark brown goat he named Daryl.

He was rather fond of his little herd. Poor Nadia and Lisa, the only girls. Oftentimes, they'd come hide with him and Goat Dad while the boys rough housed and galloped across whatever field they occupied.

He had set up camp for the night, a little fire set up in a spot he'd cleared, and his sleeping mat rolled out next to it. He'd been trying to cook some rabbit he'd caught when someone approached. He looked up quizzically then blinked when he recognized the signature inside the rusted, creaking suit of armor.

"Um... Hi?"

The figure creaked forward and he stumbled to catch it, before it landed in the fire. He settled her, he knew it was her already, against a tree and took off her helmet.

Yep. That was Elizabeth, without a doubt. He put a hand on her forehead and was a little concerned to feel that she had a fever. It wasn't a bad one, but there nonetheless. He opened up her armor and took her out, placing her on his bed roll gently and drawing the single wool blanket he had over her.

"Goat Dad, watch her please." He instructed as the beige goat settled beside her. Then he bounded off into the woods.

She woke up the next morning, wincing at the aches over her body, and the pounding behind her head, and was a little startled to find herself face to face with a beige goat, who bleeted at her and returned to grazing.

Then she registered there was a man sitting by the fire in front of her, a little grinding noise coming from something he was handling. Long, golden hair, tied back in a ponytail, was adorned with little strings of beads, some small braids thrown in. He was wearing brown pants, flexible, but not baggy, and a green tank top. There was also a green band on his left arm, over his bicep. (It was to hide his mark, but the whole outfit, top especially, reminded him a bit of what he wore in his Stigma days.) He glanced behind him and did a double take, then smiled at her.

"Hey, you're awake! I'm almost done with this." He twisted around to revel he'd been grinding some sort of plant(s) using a mortar and pestel. He pressed the pulp against the side and pressed down on it hard, most of the liquid dripping down. He took the pulp and put it in a small cup he pulled from his bag, then pulled a tiny kettle off of the embers by the fire, pouring the steaming water in. Finally, he handed the cup to her. "Drink slow, it's hot. It may taste foul, but it'll ease your fever and that soreness I'm sure you've got."

She took it, still stunned as she sat up slowly. True to his word, it smelled bitter and tasted worse, but she powered through. Already, she could feel her headache clearing.

"Thank you..." She whispered. "I- where am I? Who are you?"

"You can call me Mel, I'm a goatherd. A nomad, if you will. Just me and these eight idiots I call my herd. You collapsed in my camp last night. Your armors over there, by the w- Daryl, no, stop, don't eat that!!" He scrambled over to pull a dark brown goat away from her armor, and she giggled quietly.

"Thank you for helping me. Would you mind directing me in the direction of the nearest town? I'll be out of your hair right away!"

"Mm... sure, but a couple of conditions. First, you wait for that fever of yours to be gone, ok? Let me get you back on your feet. So recovered from your sickness, and some fresh water and food into you. I can't guarantee it'll be good food, warning you now. But it'll be food nonetheless."

"Are you sure, I've already intruded enough-"

"I insist, really."

"...Alright. What else?"

"Would you mind answering a few questions for me? Like... your name? What you're doing all the way out here? This is pretty thoroughly the middle of nowhere."

"M-My name is Elizabeth! I-... I got lost..." Her voice got down to a whisper, and Meliodas snorted. "I see."

They got to talking and it didn't take him long to get it out of her that she was looking for the Seven Deadly Sins.

"But I've been searching for WEEKS, and I've gotten nowhere, I haven't even found ONE of them!"

"Well, that's not true."

She blinked at him slowly, and the small, not quite fond smile he had on his lips widened to a little grin, a bit of mischief coming with it. His chin was in his hand as he leaned forwards, legs crossed. "You HAVE found one of them."

"...I beg your pardon?"

He laughed quietly. "You found me. Mel is a nickname, TECHNICALLY, it's Meliodas."

She gaped at him as he pulled down his armband a little, sitting up as he revealed the dragon mark. She went a little pale, and put a hand on her forehead. "Good lord..." She whispered. He pulled his armband back up with a smirk. "Indeed. Now. Would you tell me more about this plot to overthrow the kingdom?"

[dysphxtric]

Mental Illness - My Mental Health Story

TW: Depression, Anxiety, Self harm, Suicide, Sexual Harassment

“You should smile more.”

“It could be worse.”

“Just don’t think about it.”

These were the phrases I heard throughout all of my elementary and high school years. There was never a time when my peers and teachers, would not mention some bizarre, ignorant statement revolving around mental health. Not to mention, my family also contributed heavily to the stigmatization of mental health issues. Essentially, my family approached the subject of mental health with extreme hesitation, they refused to talk about how it affects people of all age, gender, ethical background (etc.) Every time I would say “I’m feeling lost” my family would automatically dismiss my frantic worries and it was not any different when I went to school. My peers would continuously remind me that my pain was not valid and that I need to stop being so sensitive. My primary parental figures, my mother and brother did not have the adequate knowledge or tools to be able to hold space for me. I would frequently hear my mom say, “I could understand someone suffering from PTSD feeling upset or sad but you’re so young and healthy honey, you have nothing to worry about” or the old classic “Someone else has it worse than you”. Whether I was at home or at school, I heard the same ignorant statements spewing out from what felt like everyone. And I could never comprehend what was the point of these falsely “encouraging” statements and why profusely use them? These kinds of statements do not uplift, nor do they empower those struggling with mental health issues, if anything it makes it extremely debilitating when your emotions are not acknowledged nor validated. One cannot expect to simply brush away another person’s emotion, thought or feeling as though it means nothing.

With that being said, growing up, I lived in a dysfunctional household alongside my mother, my older brother, and my grandmother. My mother would always be juggling work, schooling, and her dating life. My brother was very reluctant about staying home so he would always vanish after school, hang out with friends, party hard and engage with various street substances. Now my grandmother? It was not long after she immigrated that she began to immerse herself within the Jehovah’s Witnesses ideology and “religiously” strayed away from us as my mother likes to say. My mother was never fond of religious practices that were not “orthodox”. My grandmother wanted to indoctrinate my mom, brother, and I into joining her religious little club but failed which resulted in countless fights, yelling matches, and multiple dents left in our walls. The back and forth with the yelling was what scared me most in my childhood even if it was over something as small as not closing the cabinet door. I think it was around this time period I experienced violence/ trauma at home and truth be told I was extremely stressed and anxious all the time as a kid. My mother would cover the punched indents by taking magazines and sticking pages onto the indent. Often times my stomach would turn as I looked at the pages covering the area where my brother punched the wall with brutal force. Moreover, I felt impending sadness because all I ever wanted was for everyone in my family to be able coexist and not argue. I was trying to keep the peace between everyone, yet I was always the one that got caught in the middle of everything whether I liked it or not. I would get blamed a lot for trying to mend things for everyone. Even though all I wanted was the best for all my family members.

Fast forward to my pre-teen/ teenage years. By this point, my brother and grandmother were no longer living under the same roof as my mother and I. My brother was living with his ex-girlfriend while working as a security guard meanwhile my grandmother was living in her own little subsidized apartment preaching the word of Jehovah. At that particular time, my mother and I lived in a marvellous urban semi-detached house in a peaceful neighbourhood. My mother’s boyfriend had moved in with us and for the most part I was really happy because at least it was not just me and her.

My mother’s boyfriend lived with us while I was going to school. He was a really nice, caring and warm-hearted individual although I could never understand why my mother argued with him so much. I once told him “You should propose to her, I can see you two together forever” to which he replied with a welcoming smile.

But eventually just like with all good things, there comes an end. The inevitable breakup my mom went through was very bitter and I had to be there for her. Afterall, I was technically the only child that was around to emotionally comfort her. Ironically, the breakup occurred during the time I was being bullied in school. And it was difficult to be fully present for my mother while dealing with a lot of negativity at school. I had been experiencing cyber bullying on MSN by a bunch of peers calling me “weird”, “ugly” and “different”. To make matters worse, the group of kids that bullied me online ended up following me everywhere I went for recess which posed as a big obstacle for my well being. I had to eat inside the portables when teachers weren’t around or inside the girl’s bathroom stall just to avoid being teased. I never felt like I had a safe space to myself where I could be vulnerable and open up. Not to mention, it was a difficult time and there was practically no one I could confide in. I didn’t have a social circle of supportive friends, after all I was an antisocial person. Fear washed over me as I worried about disclosing my unpleasant experience to my mother because she was already dealing with so much, the heartbreak, the bills, work problems (etc.), it was then and there that I decided to lie instead of telling the truth. Ultimately, lying became my cooping mechanism to deal with the ongoing pain.

I kept up the lying for a long time in order to make it seem like everything was okay. I lied to everyone from family members to school peers to the teaching staff to principals to counselors.

For the longest time, lying sheltered me from all sorts of unnecessary questions. No one could really tell whether I was truthful or disloyal because I was able to make it sound believable. When I was a teenager, I continued to go down the same destructive path by being dishonest with myself and others. Many times, the thought of suicide crossed my mind and when I started to think about it and plan/coordinate the intricate details it did not hit me that something was very wrong, and I needed urgent help. A big part of the problem was that I was so used to downplaying my pain, given my family circumstance and stigmatization I experienced growing up with. There is no denying that I would engage in negative self talk convincing myself that I deserved the pain and suffering for not being likeable enough or for not being smart enough.

Sometimes I think that is the thing… people do not understand that I lied because that was what I was required to do in order to survive my childhood. I, myself do not tolerate lying and I think it is a form of betrayal and if I were to be completely honest, I would have NEVER lied to my mom had it been safe for me to express myself authentically in my household.

I did not live in a household where it was safe to speak my mind freely and disagree with my mother. Disagreeing was always the last thing I wanted to do, disagreeing meant I got the belt, my devices would get confiscated or that I was going to get grounded. They say, “Honesty is the best policy” and I do not disagree however, it is not as black and white as one may think. In my situation, lying was not only an adaptive coping mechanism but it became a survival mechanism to keep me safe from harm/threat.

I did not have very much individuality growing up. I felt as though having an opinion of my own was bad. In order to perpetuate this fixated mindset that I had, my mother constantly deemed certain attributed behaviours or thoughts as “good” or “bad”. So, say you were upset about a recent breakup with your partner, my mother would scoff and say, “You know life isn’t just about love right?” and play it like it means nothing to the person affected by the situation.

The first time I ever felt depressed was when I was 13. At that age I did not understand why I was feeling what I was feeling. All I knew was that there was something wrong with me. It did not help when I was being picked on by my classmates telling me “Go die”, “You belong in a ditch ugly bitch.”

The moment when things started getting out of hand was when I was first started my Art and Family Studies class in the same semester. In both classes I was placed into groups amongst other students. In Family Studies I had to be in a collaborative group that would divide responsibilities and tasks accordingly. When it came to cooking, my group consisted of four snobby, rich yet immature peers who were unwilling to help and contribute in any shape or form, I had to become the bigger person and sure enough I took all the responsibilities on myself. Though, it was not a smart move. But I was super shy and felt anxious to do anything different least to say speak up and advocate for myself, so I did what I had to do which was prepare meals, clean, and wash the dishes. At the end of the day, none of my peers thanked me, the only thank you I got was getting groped while washing the dishes and getting laughed at.

After what happened I ran to my best friend in tears to tell her what happened just to find her say “It’s not that bad, you’ll be fine” I felt like my blood was going to boil and I was about to start fuming. I stood thinking “Huh, that is so weird, is this how you comfort a person after being sexually harassed?”

Not to sound all grim but that experience showed me that no one really cared about me. No one cared that I got groped or how I felt in that moment. Let alone not even my “best friend” who was supposed to fulfill her role and be there for me. All I wanted was comfort and to be heard out. I could not even tell my mother about this experience until I turned 21 because of how ashamed I felt carrying around that experience and not having the ability to open up and mourn what happened that day and to be able to heal that damaged part of myself. I carried that incident with me for 7 years in silence because I was scared of being honest.

That specific experience was very detrimental to my mental health. Everything began to spiral out of control, I sprawled into a dark depressive state. I began to have intense panic attacks, insomnia, forgetfulness (etc.) After a certain duration of time, I had thoughts of suicide lingering at the back of my head. I questioned my worth, my identity, my culture, my everything.

The bullying and name calling persisted and became so intense that I ended up missing weeks of school time. Some of the boys in my Art class found it funny to make fun of my last name and call me “Prostitute”.

One day in the early springtime, my Art teacher noticed the marks on my wrists as I was painting and had not said anything until I made it to my last period class. I was called down to the guidance counselors office and was interrogated with questions.

“It has come to our concern that one of the staff members noticed cuts on your arms.”

I sat in silence trying hard to contain my anxiety.

“Are you struggling with depression or low mood? Is everything okay at home?”

It came to the point when I got so tired of lying about my pain that I admitted “Yes, I am struggling, I need help”. I dived into the bullying occurrences, the cat calling, my low grades, my self-esteem, the groping, my home situation (etc). After that, I was told that my mother would have to be called down to the school for “safety” reasons even though my counselor promised not to disclose any personal information to my mother. My greatest fear was that I did not want my mom to know that something was wrong.

Of course, my mom came to my school. She was told everything that had happened. I met her at the counselor’s office just to find her wailing in distress “You are such an embarrassment” and “Your counselor told me what you did, how could you do this?”. When the counselor gave us resources for help, my mother grabbed the papers and shoved them into the trash, got up and yanked me out the office.

The next three days that followed, my mother withdrew into her room not saying a word to me. I felt really uneasy and upset. She had her right to be alone but locking herself away from me and avoiding communication altogether? Didn’t make much sense.

I felt extremely guilty for not opening up to my mother sooner. But instead of choosing to be compassionate and caring she chose to resort to anger. She furiously blamed me for being “quiet” and “not trustful” which all landed on my shoulders again. It was “my” fault I thought.

Bottling this up resulted in a full-blown mental breakdown. I could not focus or concentrate because of everything building up. It came to the point where my mom had to choose between living in a toxic community or starting fresh elsewhere.

And even though my mother kept subjecting me to her harmful stigmatizations, the transition from my old school to my new one helped me greatly. When we moved away, I gradually started to feel better emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. Very quickly, I ended up adapting to my new high school where I finally made friends.

One thing I cannot deny is that there definitely was a silver lining to all of this. Although I went through severe bullying and torment at school and home, I managed to reclaim my power and through that I discovered my inner peace after being extracted from my toxic high school. The new school that I ended up attending completely changed me and inspired me to become a more authentic version of myself. It was almost as though I did a complete 180°

My new peers and teachers were enthusiastic, open-minded and caring. The new community I was surrounding myself in was a very positive one that broke down stigmas and encouraged deep understanding and acceptance. My mind was blown when I found that it was easier to conversate with girls and guys at my new school, I was gradually becoming confident and more vocal, and I liked the feeling of not hiding myself away from the world. It felt rejuvenating to finally be heard and seen by others.

Slowly but surely, I began to partake in various activities at my school. I joined the Poetry Club which I would have never considered joining had I stayed back in my old school due to fear of how I was perceived. Ultimately, I started caring and nurturing myself more. My new friends supported me, and teachers began to openly listen to my stories and encouraged me to write. When I started writing, I realized that I could use this medium to cope with my depression and anxiety. The acknowledgment made a major difference in my life like never before.

If it were not for the transition from my old high school, I would have not made progress in developing into the woman I am today. I know that I am not my pain, I am not my mistakes.

Do I still struggle and have bad days? Yes, of course. Just like any human being I have my days when I am not feeling the greatest however, I am more open to learning about how to engage with my mind, body and soul in order to soothe myself during turbulent times. I still have that inner critic however, I have been engaging with activities such as bike riding, painting, drawing, and reading to help occupy my mind which as a result has reduced the time that I spend ruminating. Occupying myself has worked magic, I am now able to reduce and control how much time I spend self-loathing, criticizing, and judging myself. Rather than judging every thought, I’ve learned to slow down and observe.

If you stuck along until the end of my story, I want to thank you for reading through my experience. My hope is that my story can shed some light on the myths and stigmas surrounding mental health, especially within the Eastern European community. I want you all to know that you are ALL valid and I wanted to be able to share my story so that my readers know that they are not alone.