#but the amount of debunking and extra work to just try to get my thoughts to just… not lately yikes love cptsd and bpd sometimes

[softceleste]

Also like @ everyone, honestly, I promise I’ll reply to dms / go through my tracked tag, etc etc eventually. I’m extremely depressed atm, and it’s very much a case of I want to, I feel bad I haven’t replied yet but I can’t.

[tatooedlaura-blog]

Post-Moments

a ‘momentary’ follow-up ... of sorts ...

Our Moments: Chapter 1: Five Words (post-Leonard Betts) Chapter 2: Sidebar Nonsense (post-Memento Mori) Chapter 3: Interim (floating somewhere around Unrequited) Chapter 4: Max 2.0 (post-Tempus Fugit/Max) Chapter 5: Shadowed Grey Eyes Chapter 6: The Warmest Thing I Own Chapter 7: Fancy Paper Napkins Chapter 8: End of the Road (post-Redux/Redux 2) Chapter 9: Post-Moments

@today-in-fic

&&&&&&&&&&

First thing back was her sense of smell. It took nearly a week but suddenly, as she walked, unannounced but never unwelcome into his apartment, she stopped, the look of surprise on her face made him immediately laugh, then tilt his head, “you shouldn’t be that surprised to see me here. It’s my apartment.”

Ignoring his statement, she quick-stepped his way, burying her face first in his shirt, then, pulling him to her level, into his neck, sniffing like a bloodhound on the trail of some erstwhile criminal with a bag of treats. So taken aback by the invasion, he simply stood there, letting her take several deep inhales before finally reaching for her shoulders, “you keep breathing like that and you’ll pass out.”

Twisting her head, she gave him a quick kiss, then dropped back flat-footed, forcing him to once again look down at her while she looked up, “I haven’t been able to smell you since day 12 of ‘IT’ so I’m making up for lost time.”

She’d told him, finally, after he’d repeatedly offered her tempting foods to try to coax some weight back on her bony frame, that she hadn’t been able to smell anything, and therefore, taste anything, for awhile but she’d never stated the exact day until now and standing there, already changed into jeans and a t-shirt, an epiphany of sorts smacked him hard upside the head, “what? Day 12?” Ignorant idiocy settling in, “Shit. You sat through a steak, my famous garlic mushrooms, six tubs of ice cream, and all those M&Ms I kept feeding you and you couldn’t taste a thing? The amount of money I could have saved during those months I tempted you with anything I could find while, really, it all tasted like sawdust.” Feigning irritation but failing miserably as he scooted closer, kissing her forehead, “what a crock of shit.”

“I got …” being generous for his sake, “hints of flavor.”

“Fuck, woman, we’re having a steak and ice cream orgy tonight. I’m going shopping.”

She stopped his movements with hands on arms, “hey, let me go taste something and see if that came back as well before you waste all your money on cow foods.”

Following her to his kitchen, “both things really do involve cows. That’s rather unnerving, actually.”

With a grin, she found a cookie, then, tasting it, she shook her head, “I’d save the cow for another day.”

Mulder, wondering if his earlier suggestion of Mexican for dinner was still appropriate, he decided ‘no’, then, “well, how about we taking a smelling tour of DC and eat toast for dinner?”

He got a well-deserved backhand to his chest, “we are eating at Papadapoulous’ House of Salsa tonight because you’ve been talking about that place ad nauseum all week. Get your coat.” When he didn’t move, she nodded, giving him a smile, “we can do the smelling tour after, okay?”

“Deal.”

&&&&&&&&&&&

Taste came back ten days later. Just as Mulder came out of her bathroom, about to announce that no one should go in there for 35 to 45 minutes, Scully took a sip of his ice tea and spit it right back out, soaking her shirt and the floor in front of her. Mulder forgot his comment and flew over to her, socks sliding on the polished wood floor, “what happened?”

Feeling like a complete and utter moron, she first retrieved a towel to mop both herself and the floor, then looked at her partner, “I stole some of your ice tea and I could taste it and it scared me, if you can believe it. I wasn’t expecting anything and suddenly there was something and my first reaction,” beginning to laugh at the whole situation, “I spit it out. I didn’t even think to swallow it.”

Mulder shook his head, “are you sure we’re still talking about ice tea and not dirty things?”

He could almost hear her brain suddenly shift gears, brakes squeaking, mind two steps behind, “what?”

It was his turn to laugh, pulling her into a hug, soaking wet shirt and all, “I’ll give you two minutes to think about it, then I’ll explain if necessary.”

It took almost four seconds before, “I’ve never been a spitter, Mulder.”

That worked entirely too well for him and dismissing all but his hairy-moled, make-up caked fourth-grade teacher from his mind, he held her another minute then moved back, calmed down again, “you should go change your shirt.”

“No wet t-shirt comments?” Her sassy retort told him both that she knew what her swallowing comment had done to him and what the wet t-shirt mention would. She was evil. She knew it. He knew it. He loved it.

“Just go change. Tonight, we shop for steak.”

Loving him to pieces, she reached for his elbow, playing with the sharp bent end, “so, I know we just had Mexican a few days back but now that I can taste things, I desperately want salsa and a Margarita.”

“Large?”

“The biggest one they fucking sell, pardon my French.”

Their kiss was much longer this time, Scully’s fingers firmly twirled in his shirt by the time they were done, Mulder’s hands curled around her ass, “then can I make you mushrooms this weekend?”

“Pounds of them. Extra garlic and butter,” suddenly swallowing, “yeah, we need to go eat.”

“Lead the way.”

&&&&&&&&&&

His arrival at her house that Friday night with grocery bags was, oddly, the first time her body reacted to him. They’d been making out, to use the juvenile-y appropriate term, but nothing more, Scully still recovering, Mulder still nervous about 12000 things between and surrounding them both.

But seeing him standing there, in her door, goofy smile and slipping bottle of wine in hand, she felt something. It was a fast twinge but it was familiar but surprising and her widening eyes told him something but he wasn’t sure what and he didn’t ask.

Had he asked, he may have gotten an answer that would have necessitated bringing fourth-grade teacher back … but instead, he walked in, setting bags on counter before turning, “hungry?”

For the first time in months, she appreciated the underlying double-meaning he hadn’t intended, “yes. Very much so. How long do the mushrooms take to cook?”

“At least a few hours.” Pulling things from bags, “but I bought appetizers and,” holding up several National Enquirers, “reading material. Let’s see if we can find a case somewhere in the tropics. I could use a ‘vacation’.”

Only Mulder.

Mushrooms cleaned and slow-cooking, they nibbled their way through eight different kinds of cheeses, each one a symphony to Scully’s previously deadened tongue. She may have let slip a ‘hhhmmm’ that could have possibly been interpreted as a moan by one Fox Mulder but he didn’t comment and she kept doing it.

He was glad he wore the looser jeans tonight.

They chuckled and argued in tandem while thumbing through the papers Mulder brought: telling stories, tossing theories, debunking nonsense. Finishing the first bottle of wine slowly, Mulder offered a second but Scully shook her head, “save it for dinner.”

Agreeing, he moved to stir the crockpot, then returned, towel over his shoulder, licking his fingers from the buttery sample he’d eaten in the kitchen, “They’re getting there.”

Second twinge, this one longer, had her lower abdomen contracting in a tickling giggle kind of way. The shiver up her spine caused her to visibly vibrate for a moment but Mulder, luckily or unluckily, not noticing, sat back down, returning to the ‘Owl that carried off a family of four in their camper van’ story on page 26.

What the hell.

Then again, he was licking his fingers.

The third zing when she returned to this thought was not as strong as the second but made her smile nonetheless, which Mulder actually did notice, “what?”

She pinked-up instantly, having forgotten the heat of a blush across her skin, and hands to cheeks suddenly, “just … a little too much wine.”

He moved his hand to her pulled up knee, squeezing it, “we don’t have to open the second one. It’ll keep.”

“No. No. I, uh, I, … I’m fine. I … I’m fine.”

Gibbering idiot more like it but whatever.

&&&&&&&&&&

If sex were food, Scully decided, it would be that steak. Mulder went for broke, filet and strip, buttery smooth, medium rare, warm, pink, juicy, perfect blend of garlic and butter, rosemary and pepper. Between the taste; the sight of Mulder across the table; the smell of wine and smoke; the look of him, messy-haired and smiling, relaxed three feet from her; the feel of impending summer breezes through the window, she tipped into sensory overload, eyes shutting as she tried to bring herself back to some kind of alignment.

Then, eyes still closed, she heard his voice, “hey, you. Ya’llright?”

The tinging vibration hit her full-force, arm hair standing on end, neck flushing, nipples tightening, a thousand images of him and her, himandher, flashing through her mind, driving the feeling shooting from stomach to clit to soul in speed of light, circuitous fashion, “yeah. Yeah. Just enjoying.”

Her voice was all over the damn map with those four words and Mulder, knowing her better than he knew himself, tilted his head, finally understanding exactly what was happening, “I can see that.”

Quaking quieting somewhat, she shifted in her chair, hoping to relieve some of the pressure she was feeling, pressing down on the cushion like she was seventeen and at the movie theater with her boyfriend, begging silently for him to touch her and simultaneously thinking about touching herself when she got home. Not able to look him in the eye, however, she cut another piece of her steak, praying she wouldn’t choke.

Shifting himself as well, watching her hips search for a good spot against the chair, he kept any comment to himself. He hadn’t pushed anything these last weeks, knowing she was recovering, finding herself again, situating ‘us’ and ‘we’ into a previously accepted solitary status quo of ‘I’ and ‘me’.

But, fuck, he had been tempted and tonight, seeing her like this, pushed his resolve to the breaking point. If she made one more sound in her throat, he truly believed he’d explode under the table, a quiet yet uncontrollable manifestation of four years and infinite wishes. “More wine?”

“Yes, please.”

She fought herself the rest of the meal, making stilted, dinner time conversation that they both saw through, both breathed through, both suffered through.

Dish cleanup and pajama changing quieted her down, her mind focused on other things for a little while but once they’d sat down on the couch, lights off, movie in, ice cream waiting in the freezer for later, she became acutely aware of his proximity to her. He’d offered her half the afghan, shifted the coffee table a little closer for her feet to rest on if she wanted, kissed the top of her head just as the opening credits began. She, in turn, had to keep reminding herself how to breathe evenly.

Sensory overload was kicking in again, the smell of him, his radiating heat, his voice as he contributed oft-placed comments on police procedurals happening on the TV. Her hand found its way to his thigh, fingers playing with the inside seam of his cut-off sweats. His own landed on her flannel pants, roughly same distance between allowable knee and forbidden juncture.

Her voice surprised her, “Mulder?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s your stance on third base?”

Slowly, he found the remote and paused before swinging his gaze in her direction, “Yankees or something else?”

Her inhale shuddered, “not the Yankees.”

His hand immediately slid from allowable to not-so-forbidden now, caught between viced thighs, “this third base?”

Confession tumbled from her lips, “I haven’t done anything or felt anything, really, in months and suddenly you walked in today with grocery bags and that stupid grin of yours and you smell fantastic and something kicked in and,” wiggling out of necessity to attempt to … whatever …, “I don’t recall the last time I was this …”

Mulder finished her sentence with a grin, “horny?”

“Yes!”

Somehow, he lifted her bodily onto his lap, his chest to her back, hand sliding effortlessly down the front of her pajamas, finding the sweet spot before she had time to so much as offer the feeble word of ‘bed’.

Then she didn’t care.

At all.

Focusing mainly on his fingers, warm, quick, unexperienced but willing to learn. Instead of following, she led, whispering once to move a little to the left, whispering again to go harder, arching her back as she came in under a minute, body shuddering, twitching, before settling back down.

Over her shoulder, his husky voice sounded in her ear, “can I be next?”

It took all of nine seconds to stand up, drop her clothes to the floor, order him to lift up, pull his pants off, then climb on, already wet, already slick, already taking him inside with a slip and a slide.

&&&&&&&&&&&

Her giggles made him smile, her rosy cheeks made him happy, her warm skin within lips reach made him dizzy but above all else, her panting breath against his neck made him ecstatic, knowing she was alive and well and would be for the foreseeable future. When she finally calmed down, knees digging into the couch springs, skin glued to skin, she pulled herself back, sweat running down Mulder’s chest where they had been pressed together moments earlier, “I had planned for that to be a little … less …” waving her hands around in wordless definition, “that.”

“Was perfect to me.”

Kissing him lightly, then resting forehead to his, “one day, this will all be organized and we’ll make it to the bedroom.”

Hands back on her bare ass, “highly doubt that but it’s nice to have a plan.”

Sitting back, she reached out to him, lightly running her fingers along his hairline, feather-touch making his eyes shut, “I think we should do that again later.”

About to ask why not now, he had an epiphany of sorts and looking at her, square and jokingly judging, “you want ice cream, don’t you?”

This time, her nose scrunched up when she smiled, nodding with enthusiasm, “kind of. But I promise, you’ll always beat out ice cream after today … mostly.”

Pulling her down for a kiss, he then squeezed her thighs to nudge her off him, “come on, woman. Let’s go clean up so we can have dessert.”

“I love you, Mulder.”

“You just love my Rocky Road.”

“That, too.”

[moved-danganronpamess]

I saw requests are open, so if it’s not to much to ask could I possibly request a gender neutral reader comforting sad ishimaru, gundham, sonia, and byakuya (dr1) in the game? I wish to cuddle and hug them—(also I LOVE YALLS WRITIN I WENT ON A SPREE READING THROUGH THE MASTERLIST ITS ALL V GOOD::33 ::DDDD)

Aww man! My first request, heehee!

I'm sure all the other mods appreciate your kudos! I hope it’s alright that I answered your ask despite being new, I just couldn’t resist! I wanna hug and cuddle these cuties too, they deserve it for all they’ve been through. I only wrote Ishimaru and Byakuya for now, I hope that’s alright! I’ll be sure to post Sonia and Gundham another time!  

I hope you enjoy it, my buttercup baby! <3

- 🌺💖Mod Rantaro💖🌺

gn!S/O comforting a sad Ishimaru and Byakuya during the killing game!

Kiyotaka Ishimaru

You and Taka were very close. From the start of this sick, horrible killing game you were forced to play, you two naturally gravitated towards eachother. You formed an extremely tight bond in a very short amount of time.

A bond tight enough to spend almost all of your free time together, sometimes in each other’s dorm rooms or around the school.

Y’all vibed hardcore-

But, with everything going on, Taka started to feel... A bit down.

The school... Wasn’t exactly a school. There were no teachers, no classes no schoolwork or homework. To most students, that would be heaven (if it weren’t for the fact everyone was trapped inside the school for the rest of their time), but for the Ultimate Moral Compass... It was almost torture.

Taka took a lot of pride in his hard work. The countless flawless grades and extra credit (that he didn’t even need, but got anyway), constant praise from his teachers and family for nothing but said work, it warped his sense of self-worth to the point that, if he wasn’t working or being successful, he didn’t matter.

And you took notice of that. You took notice of how he seemed to get more down with each passing day where he couldn’t study or show off his current knowledge.

And Taka started to get self-loathing thoughts about the whole situation. How he was useless, unworthy, or just a bother if he couldn’t work.

He knew this was unhealthy, but he kept it to himself for quite some time, until he couldn’t take having these thoughts anymore. He needed someone to talk to, and he knew you could help.

It was somewhere in the afternoon, around 6-7 PM, you couldn’t bother to look at the exact time. 

You heard a somewhat frantic knock at the door, and went to crack it open. Peeping through the opening, you noticed Taka’s tearful expression. 

You threw open the door, letting your friend inside, “Taka, what’s wrong?! Did something happen?!”, you panicked, closing the door after him.

Taka quickly wiped his eyes with his sleeve, already feeling bad for making you worry over nothing.

“N-no, no! Nothing happened!”, he reassured you, and you let out a relieved sigh. But... What was wrong, then?

“Are you ok, Ishi?”, you grabbed your friend’s hand, leading him to your bed. You both sat down, as you laced your fingers with his, not planning to let go, “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Taka ignored his quick heartbeat, as he told you about how he felt. His voice shook, and his vision was blurred with tears as he rambled about how useless he felt. If he couldn’t study, take tests or answer teachers’ questions, what was he even good for?

You pulled him into a hug, letting him rest his head on your shoulder. You debunked every bad word he said about himself, telling him how his talent and academic achievements didn’t define him as a person. He was a wonderful, caring friend who you were incredibly lucky to have, not some studying machine you expected to be the best at everything.

You knew how much he valued knowledge, so you suggested starting some new hobbies together like... Art, or chess, or sewing... Anything you could think of at the moment that would get you two to learn and expand your horizons.

Your touch and reassuring words comforted him... You were so considerate with your words and found a way to get him out of that low, low state so easily. You even wanted to try those hobbies with him! He never really felt so cared for. Your hand ran through his hair so delicately, he felt like he could melt. He never wanted to let go...

He was so lucky to have you.

 Byakuya Togami :

Byakuya was in the school library, as per usual. Reading a book about who-knows-what and trying to distract himself from the dark fog slowly forming in his head.

He was thinking about everything that was taken away from him. From his success and wealth, to his family’s Corporation, everything that he fought for and righteously owned... Gone. Probably forever.

It messed with him, it really did. He felt like all he went through to get to the top was worthless. That his years of fighting were wasted on nothing.

He tried to push these feelings away. Wallowing over the fact that he was trapped in Hope’s Peak until his damnation wouldn’t help his situation. He even tried to deny his sadness, and practically ran from his emotions, opting to distract himself instead. 

He was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard you call out his name. He loudly slammed his book shut, not even bothering to mark where he stopped at, then turned to your direction, coldly asking: “What do you want?”

Now, your relationship with Togami was strange. At least, from your perspective. He was self-centered, cold and difficult to talk to, but that’s part of the reason why he was so intriguing to you. You always tried to talk to him, even if he responded rudely to you every time. You noticed his very slight shift in nature when he interacted with you. He was still cold, yes, but it was almost toned down.

There was something about you that he found intriguing too. You always  had something to say to him, something to add, a comeback to an insult he may’ve thrown at you once or twice. He found you amusing, and certainly didn’t want to push you away.

You walked into the library, closing the door behind you, “I’m just here to check on you. You don’t have to be so sour about it.”

“I’m fine. Now leave, you’re distracting me.”, Byakuya tried to go back to his reading, planning to ignore you, but you proved that to be difficult by coming up to the desk, and sitting down on it.

Before Togami could tell you to move, you asked: “You doin’ ok? You seem sad.”

That... Took him aback. It was clear he didn’t expect your question.

He didn’t even know how to reply. Part of him wanted to talk to you, and the other just wanted to get you away from him. 

You hummed at his silence, then said, leaning over to rest your elbows on you knees, chin propped in your hands, “I can tell you how I’m feeling, if that would make you wanna talk about it.”

Byakuya sighed, “Fine, because I know you’ll keep bothering me about it if I don’t listen to you.”

You made him promise to talk about his own feelings btw it was an incredibly long, annoying and difficult process and he actually tried to leave the room several times but yOU CONVINCED HIM AND YOU DID IT GOOD JOB

Byakuya's superiority complex really said "no❤️"

And so, you rambled for a while. About how you felt, what you missed, what you wanted to do, and he listened. He may've looked somewhat disinterested, but it was far from that. He wanted to hear you, he was just too proud to fully admit it.

But when it was his turn to talk, he hesitated. He hesitated a lot, actually, and you had to convince him to speak all over again.

And he did! Of course, adding a lot of "I suppose"s and "maybe"s/"possibly"s to his sentences to distance himself from his emotions. He didn't tell you everything, but he did say a majority of his feelings. And... He really felt better.

Subconsciously, you went to pat the top of his head, telling him you're proud that he opened up to you.

Then you realized what you did.

"Oh, sorry! I probably shouldn't-"

As you went to pull your hand away, Togami quickly snatched your wrist, and put your hand back on his head, saying: "This- stays between us, understand?"

You smiled, seeing his rose-tinted cheeks, as your ran your hand through his hair absentmindedly.

As he went back to his reading, you two sat together in a comfortable silence, and a ghost of a grin appeared on his face.

... He could get used to this.

Make sure to drink some water, take any meds you may need to, and maybe eat some fruit or candy! Lotsa love from me, my buttercup baby! <3

[quicksilversquared]

Scream to the Trees

Marinette is tired of pushing her emotions to the side all of the time. It's important not to get akumatized since she's Ladybug, but it's getting harder and harder to shove her feelings back in the closet and lock them away. It's only safe to let her emotions out when she's outside of Paris, but that's not possible- or is it?

After all, the Horse Miraculous exists.

(written post-Startrain and pre-Chat Blanc/finale, so not canon with those #whoops)

links in the reblog

Marinette was starting to struggle.

Most of the time, she liked being Ladybug. Sure, there were things that she could do without- having her life interrupted because of akuma attacks and having to scramble to make up work and try to explain to her parents and teachers and friends why she hadn't been where she was supposed to be was a huge pain for sure- but Marinette had to acknowledge that her life had improved since becoming Ladybug. She was more confident now, braver, more comfortable with herself and with grabbing opportunities as they came. Marinette had noticed herself becoming a lot more athletic since becoming Ladybug, too, and that was plenty appreciated, too.

But Ladybug came with a lot of responsibilities and a lot of pressure. There was the pressure to save the day during every akuma attack, ramped up even more when Chat Noir was taken out or was late to a battle. She had to be a superhero, and a public figure, and a role model. There were interviews and public events that she was expected to do, and it was important to seem put-together and on top of things at all times, not letting on any weaknesses. Ladybug had to not let on any personal information and do her best to debunk or mislead anyone who got too close to the truth. She had to not lose her temper during interviews- it didn't reflect well on her- and do her best to not upset anyone during the interviews. Civilians always expected her and Chat Noir to save them even when they completely failed to evacuate an area just because they wanted to see the akuma and the superheroes, even though both of them had mentioned multiple times during interviews that the continued presence of civilians was both distracting and dangerous.

And being Ladybug also meant that Marinette could not, under any circumstances, get akumatized.

Which- well, it didn't sound like getting akumatized would be pleasant, so it wasn't as though Marinette would want to get akumatized, even if she weren't Ladybug. The gap in akumatized people's memories, the guilt, the confusion- none of it sounded like fun. But people got akumatized because they had been able to react to something. They were allowed to feel upset, to feel mad, to feel betrayed or embarrassed or disappointed. Sure, it would be better to be able to feel without being turned into a raging monster- and most of the time people could, Hawkmoth didn't go for every upset person in Paris- but Marinette couldn't risk it herself. She had to push her emotions down, lock them away, and keep going, as though everything was just fine, even when it wasn't.

Forcing her emotions away was starting to get really, really old. It was also getting harder and harder to do with every passing day, and there had been some close calls recently. Some really close calls. And they had been justified, but she was Ladybug, and unlike everyone else in the city, Ladybug could not get herself akumatized without dire consequences.

So naturally, Marinette sought out Master Fu for advice, taking the trek across the city to his new apartment.

"I see," Master Fu murmured thoughtfully once Marinette had told him everything, doing her best to battle down her frustration as she recounted the number of times that she had had to force her emotions away so that she wouldn't be a potential target for akumatization. "Controlling one's emotions is an important skill and one that some people could certainly stand to improve on, but emotions are human and it is not healthy to never allow yourself to feel. Bottling it all up will only result in explosive results later, but while you're in the city, it would be too dangerous to let yourself give in to emotion."

Marinette nodded, pushing down her frustration even more. She knew this already and while it was nice to get reassured that getting upset wasn't a character fault and it wasn't a good idea to always be repressing, she wanted ideas.

Support was helpful, but she needed a solution.

"So what should I do, take a train out of Paris every time I get really upset about something so I can yell at some trees?" Marinette asked despite herself, the sarcastic edge slipping in despite herself. "That doesn't seem very practical."

Thankfully, Master Fu didn't appear upset, instead giving her a small smile. "No, not very. But you have just given me an idea." Pushing himself to his feet, Master Fu headed over to his gramophone and opened it, pulling out the Miraculous Box. "I would recommend a multipronged approached, actually. First of all, identify the source of discontent and address it so that it cannot continue to cause you harm. What about the situation is upsetting you? Otherwise, all other solutions will only help momentarily."

Marinette nodded, but she couldn't help but be a bit doubtful about that. She had been trying to address the whole Lila problem, but it hadn't done anything but backfire on her. No one would listen to her when she called out the really obvious discrepancies in Lila's stories, Alya only called her jealous, and Lila upped her (not-very-subtle) assault on Marinette's character. And sitting back- well, at this point it wasn't really an option, because Lila was the kind of person to take advantage of any opening or weakness and run with it.

"I recognize that that can be hard and in the heat of the moment, it can be almost impossible to come up with a solution," Master Fu continued. He lifted up the box and carried it over to Marinette, setting it down on the floor before sitting back down on his pillow and pressing the buttons to open the Miraculous Box. "So I would like to propose an idea that incorporates your suggestion. Perhaps taking a train wouldn't be practical, given the amount of time that it would take for you to get safely out of Hawkmoth's range, but something a bit more instantaneous might be more fitting."

Marinette gasped in realization as her mentor reached for one particular drawer. "The Horse Miraculous! Of course! I can just make a portal out to the countryside to vent, then come back when it's safe. But..." She frowned, determined to not let herself get carried away too soon. "I would still have to get away from wherever I was and come over here, and I don't know how practical that would be, either."

Master Fu smiled at her, removing the Horse Miraculous from its drawer. "You misunderstand me, Marinette. I have let you borrow the Horse before in case you needed it, and I am letting you borrow it again. All you will need to do is find a private place in which you can use Voyage and know where you want to go. That, and ensure that you have enough food to recharge Kaalki prior to vanishing off to the countryside. It would not do for Ladybug to get stuck in the countryside, several hours away from Paris."

Marinette let herself feel the first tendrils of hope. With that new information... "This could help during battles, too! I always worry about Hawkmoth trying to track me back to your apartment when I have to come get more Miraculous, but if I have Kaalki- I can just make a portal and hop through!"

Her mentor looked impressed. "I had not thought of that, but you are most correct! Having you holding on to the Horse will be exceedingly helpful in a variety of ways, then."

"I'll just have to be really, really careful with my bag now," Marinette added, a small frown flashing across her face. "I've had a lock on it ever since Lila decided to plant an answer key for a test in it- same with my locker- but I don't want to accidentally leave my bag open one day and have her try to steal the Miraculous." The thought of Lila with a Miraculous, and in particular one that would give her unhindered access to any locations she could think of, was terrifying. "Maybe a combination box would work, so I don't have to carry a key."

"It is unfortunate that your classroom isn't secure enough for the Miraculous to be fine in your bag, but perhaps the extra security measures are for the better," Master Fu agreed. "You don't want anyone to see the Miraculous box by accident and put two and two together. And it would be easier than ever for someone to do, with the Ladyblogger's post about the Miraculous crest."

Marinette winced at that. Somehow- even though Alya had managed to make the connection between the designs on a variety of different historical objects, even though Alya prided herself on being super up-to-date on all things Miraculous- Alya had not managed to figure out the connection between her Ladyblog post exposé and the akumatized sentimonster that had appeared less than 24 hours later, destroying the rock sculpture that had only just appeared at the Louvre.

Or maybe she had figured out the connection and had just refrained from telling Marinette, considering how much pushback she had gotten from Marinette about the whole trying to figure out Ladybug's identity thing.

(Marinette didn't believe for a second that Alya had actually stopped trying to figure Ladybug's identity out. Maybe she wasn't being as public about it anymore, but Alya was definitely still super-curious and not so easily dissuaded. Next time Rena Rouge came out, Ladybug was going to have to drop some seriously misleading "accidental clues" about her identity.)

"I do not blame you," Master Fu assured Marinette. He pressed the box with the Horse Miraculous in it into Marinette's hand. "Keep it safe, but do not be afraid to use it whenever you feel the need. You need to be able to get your feelings out- to actually be able to express your feelings when you become upset- and this should help. And Tikki, make sure that Marinette actually uses the Miraculous," Master Fu added to her kwami. "We want to encourage healthy expression of emotions, we just want to ensure that it's done safely."

Tikki nodded, ducking her head. "Of course, Master Fu."

"Come to me if you need anything more," Master Fu told Marinette as she tucked the Miraculous carefully away in her bag, locking it after the box was safely inside. "And one more thing- be sure to have your Akuma Alerts on whenever you leave the city. Tikki may be able to provide you with something for your cell phone so that no matter where you go, you'll still be able to get service."

"Of course, Master."

"Good." Master Fu smiled at her. "I hope it helps, Marinette."

"I'm sure it will," Marinette assured him. She was already feeling more relaxed, knowing that she could leave the city for a bit instead of having to repress her emotions all the time. "Thank you."

  It only took three days before Marinette had to use the Horse Miraculous for the first time. Chloe's birthday had come and gone over the weekend, it seemed, and her mother had gone back to New York only a couple days prior. Because Chloe was Chloe, she was determined to take it out on her classmates. And in particular, Marinette.

Marinette was very, very glad that she now had locks on both her school bag and her locker. Maybe she had to deal with snide comments from Lila and exasperated looks from Alya, but there was very little doubt in her mind that, had Chloe been able to get at her things, something would have been destroyed.

Again.

As it was, Chloe had been trying to push Marinette around and get a rise out of her, and Marinette had pushed right back. And then once again, Ms. Bustier pulled Marinette, not Chloe, out of the classroom to talk to her.

And once again, Marinette's frustration was rising. Giving Chloe good role models wasn't helping, and it never would. Chloe had had examples of how to behave properly for years, with other classmates and teachers and her butler and the other hotel staff, but she simply didn't want to. Why would she, when she got rewarded for being the city's biggest brat? And why should the teachers be expecting Marinette to be that role model for Chloe, when Chloe had bullied Marinette for years? Why did they want her to just lie down and take the abuse, as though that would make things better?

So for once, Marinette didn't censor herself. She didn't bite back her thoughts, pushing them down and away like she usually did. The only way that Chloe was going to stop bullying was if an adult actually stood up to her for once, instead of trying to smooth everything over.

And then, before Ms. Bustier could try to argue or reason with her, Marinette turned and stalked off to the bathrooms. Maybe this wasn't a great time to take a trip out to the countryside- after all, Marinette had already missed a fair bit of class thanks to akuma attacks- but akumas didn't care about when it would be a convenient time for them to show up. She was upset now, and so she would have to miss one more class.

"Really, Chloe just needs to be sent out of Paris!" Tikki exclaimed, sticking her head out of Marinette's bag as she dashed for the bathroom. "She keeps doing stuff like this and upsetting people, and everyone is too worried about upsetting her to do anything about it!"

"You don't have to tell me that," Marinette said grimly, heading into the girl's bathroom and making sure it was empty with a quick glance before dashing for a stall, hands already fumbling for the lock on her bag. "Unfortunately, I don't think that Chloe's father would go for that idea. Kaalki, let's gallop! Voyage!"

Marinette had done her research beforehand and had picked out several possible places in France that she could go for her out-of-Paris relaxation. Her criteria were rather simple, really, and all in the name of safety, comfort, and maximum benefits.

Marinette's retreats had to be somewhere out of the way, where no one could see the portal or see her come through it and then detransform. They had to be somewhere with decent weather, so that she wouldn't spend the entire time shivering and then end up returning to Paris too soon. And to be most effective, they had to be somewhere where Marinette could relax, meaning no noisy industrial sites or mining areas or train stations nearby.

Thankfully, the Horse's power didn't have limits on distance. That meant that Marinette could completely bypass the urban sprawl around Paris to get to green countryside and soaring mountains. So she did.

And once she popped through the portal and it snapped shut behind her, Marinette let loose with a frustrated yell that echoed off of the trees, letting out all of the anger and annoyance and why won't the teachers do ANYTHING? that had built up.

It was a lot. And as soon as it was out, Marinette practically slumped to the ground, her throat already a little sore. There had been a lot of pressure built up, and getting it out...

She hadn't realized how wound up she had been. Weeks and weeks and months of repressed emotions and suppressed reactions and trying to walk the thin line between not causing unnecessary conflict while also trying to stand up against injustice.

Trying, of course, being the operative word. It was hard for her to actually have any sort of lasting impact when the teachers and principal and sometimes even her other classmates were so focused on smoothing things over that they completely undermined her.

It. Was. Maddening.

So what if Chloe got upset and got akumatized? How was that any worse than letting Chloe upset others, over and over again? She had caused more akumas than Marinette cared to count, and pretty much every last one of them had been because Chloe had deliberately upset the person. Accidental akumatizations from Chloe- if any existed- were far and few between, and the deliberate ones had just gotten more frequent after Queen Bee started showing up.

Ladybug had allowed Chloe to keep using her Miraculous in the hopes that having to deal with some akumas would make the bully think twice about being cruel to others. Instead, she seemed to think that if she made enough akumas, she would get to come out more often.

Maybe it would be a pain to have to find and train in another person, but things had gotten to the point where she didn't want her superhero team at all associated with Chloe. Marinette didn't want Paris thinking that she was excusing Chloe's behavior, and frankly, having to fight alongside her longtime bully could be emotionally exhausting sometimes.

"That was quite the scream!" Tikki commented as Marinette released her transformation, letting both kwamis out into the cool forest air. "Has it helped?"

"I feel better, yeah," Marinette admitted, settling herself a bit more comfortably on the ground. There was still a rock digging into her leg. "But yelling at the trees doesn't solve anything. I mean, it felt good to be able to actually do, but it's not going to change Ms. Bustier's mind about actually punishing Chloe when she misbehaves." She scowled, nails digging into her hands as the reminder of the injustice came back. "All she's going to do is tell me to do better! Aren't I already trying enough? Doesn't anyone else in the class have any responsibility, or is it all magically supposed to fall on me?"

"It does seem rather unfair," Tikki agreed, but it fell on deaf ears. Marinette was continuing her rant, now on her feet and pacing.

So Tikki sat back and waited, absentmindedly weaving herself and Kaalki flower crowns to wear. There were plenty of options to choose from in the field, and it was so relaxing but also allowed Tikki to keep an eye on her Chosen, who seemed content to rant to the trees about everything she had been keeping trapped inside so that she wouldn't get akumatized.

It was a lot. Next to Tikki, Kaalki listened, apparently enthralled by the gossip.

"Your teachers do not seem to be interested in creating an environment that would reduce the number of akumas created," Kaalki commented when Marinette slowed, apparently running out of things to say. "Which is unusual, considering that akuma battles can be quite disruptive and dangerous. One would think that the possibility of being akumatized would be extra incentive to really crack down on bullying." She snorted, tossing her mane. "Bullying is not fabulous."

"Tell that to Chloe." Marinette let out a long sigh, scowling at the sky as she fiercely wiped away a stray tear that had started making its way down her cheek. "She seems to think that every time she makes someone cry, it's an achievement. That it's something to laugh about."

Tikki exchanged a look with Kaalki. She was a little shaken, really. Marinette had been upset before, but she had never been allowed to let herself really feel that emotion all that deeply before, not while Tikki had known her. The closest she had seen was during their close calls with akumas, but that- it wasn't anywhere near the level of distress and frustration that Marinette was at now.

"And Master Fu said that I should 'identify the source of the distress and address it', but it's not like I haven't tried!" Marinette continued, another tear streaking down her cheek. "I've pushed back against Chloe, but then I don't get any adult support when she retaliates! Instead, if the adults do anything, it's to scold me for not 'being the bigger person' and 'leading by example'! What else am I supposed to do? It's not like not fighting back will make it any better!"

"The teachers need to improve," Tikki agreed. "You've said before that they seem to favor Chloe, and I can see where you're coming from with that now. Ms. Bustier is so focused on helping Chloe that she's lost sight of all of her other students."

Marinette nodded. The tears were falling freely now, and while Tikki would normally be alarmed, they were well out of Hawkmoth's range and she remembered once hearing Nooroo talking about how therapeutic and relieving it could be to have a good cry. "Unless whatever problem there is is being caused by someone other than Chloe, and even then she just does the dumb hug-and-make-up approach."

"If she tries to do that with you and Lila, I hope you do the same thing that you did today," Tikki told Marinette. She had seen Lila over the past few weeks, and Tikki wouldn't deny that she was a bit alarmed. If Lila got close to Marinette, she would no doubt whisper threats or try to plant something on Marinette to get her in trouble. "Just tell her no and walk away. I know it's hard to stand up to adults, especially ones who are supposed to be protecting you, but if Ms. Bustier gets pushback from her best student, maybe she'll be forced to reflect on if those techniques are actually accomplishing what she wants them to."

"I don't want to have to! I just want to go to school, learn, and hang out with my friends, not have to- to wage a battle every time I leave the house!" Marinette's voice was turning more and more upset. "Why can't I get that? Why do I have to be always fighting in my civilian form, too? Aren't akumas enough?"

Tikki couldn't answer that. It was awful and unfair and the burden for keeping Chloe and Lila under control shouldn't fall on Marinette as much as it did, but she didn't want to say anything and give Marinette false hope.

Hopefully things would change soon and for the better, but why would they? Marinette had pushed back and complained before, abet not to the same extent, and only had been ignored or told that she had to do better. Maybe her going missing for- well, however long it would be- would shake Ms. Bustier enough to take Marinette's complaints seriously, but Tikki wasn't going to count on it. Not when nothing had changed when Chloe had gotten probably half of the class akumatized before.

An hour had passed by the time Marinette had gotten her emotions out and calmed down again enough for her to feel safe returning to Paris. That meant that school had let out for lunch by that time, so Marinette just portal-ed herself into a closet in the library before heading straight home.

She was met by a disapproving mom at the bakery's front counter. Apparently Ms. Bustier had called the bakery to report Marinette for talking back and then vanishing for an hour. In her newly relaxed state, though, Marinette was able to clearly tell her mom what had happened- what Chloe had done, what Marinette had said, Ms. Bustier's response, and Marinette's response to that and her decision to take some time to herself to calm down so that she wouldn't get akumatized.

(She didn't tell her mom that she had magically left the city, though. That would have been hard to explain.)

Needless to say, Mrs. Cheng was still ticked, but this time her ire was aimed at Ms. Bustier.

"If you can tell your dad to send someone out to man the counter for ten minutes, I think I'd like to call your teacher back and have some words with her," Mrs. Cheng told Marinette, her jaw tense. "I understand it must be intimidating to have the mayor's daughter in her class, but that's no excuse to not at least try to correct Chloe's behavior and to punish others instead. I had no idea that it had gotten so bad, but if that's the response that Chloe gets from the teachers when she acts up, it's shouldn't be a surprise that she's gotten worse." She huffed. "And it's not like her father is the president. Mayors hardly have that much power over the school system."

"Has your mom gone over to the school to talk to them before?" Tikki asked as Marinette practically skipped up the stairs to make her lunch. "It sounded like she really meant business."

Marinette shook her head. "No. I think they figured that the teachers must be giving out punishments behind the scenes, instead of interrupting class. After all, when they were growing up, their teachers would punish the bullies and support the bullied, not- not the other way around."

"And now they're really realizing what's truly going on," Tikki finished. She landed on the counter, watching Marinette as she started pulling out the ingredients for a toasted sandwich. "And I... Marinette, I've come to the realization that I have behaved somewhat poorly myself recently."

Marinette nearly banged her head on the counter door in her rush to straighten up and stare at Tikki. "I- what are you talking about, Tikki? You haven't behaved badly at all."

Tikki shook her head. "But I have! It's been rare for the stakes to be so high, like they are now. Most times when we're battling an opponent, it's perfectly fine for my wielders to get angry or upset or frustrated- and they should! It's frustrating to have to set aside your normal life to deal with threats! People argue and get upset! My Chosens tend to be like you, where they're big advocates for justice and what's right, and it's frustrating and upsetting when something isn't fair or just and you can't do anything about it!" Tikki took a deep breath before pressing on. "And this time, it's not safe to do that, not with Nooroo's powers on the other side. Nooroo has only been taken once before, and that was only for a short while."

There was a pause as Tikki composed her thoughts, and then she pressed on before Marinette could interrupt. What she had to say was important, after all, and she didn't want it to go left unsaid.

"I worry- no, I know- that I have gone too far with my focus on that danger. It's important, sure, but Ladybug is not an emotionless robot. You have trials and troubles of your own, and they are valid. You shouldn't feel like Marinette's troubles are less important than Ladybug's, and I- I think I was pushing it to that point. Looking back, there have been far too many times when you were upset about something perfectly understandable and valid, and instead I focused entirely on you needing to put those emotions aside because Ladybug can't get akumatized. Which is still true, but I could have been more understanding in my approach."

"I understand-" Marinette started, but Tikki held up a paw. This wasn't the time for Marinette to be endlessly forgiving, brushing transgressions from small to large under the rug with a gracious smile. Some things had to faced, and this was one of them.

"It is easier now, of course, with the option to escape and emote as much as is needed, to get upset and face that. But I- I have lived for eons. I know that it's not healthy to let emotions stay bottled up, and yet that's what I was encouraging! Maybe you wouldn't have been able to have the kind of breakdown that you did today, but I could have been more proactive about thinking up other solutions! And I don't want you to argue with me about that," Tikki added, because she knew Marinette and she knew Marinette would. "It's just- my promise to you is that from now on, I will do my best to do better. I will do better. Ladybug is important, but I can't let myself lose sight of Marinette in the process."

  Clearly having Mrs. Cheng give a piece of her mind to the school had had an impact. Marinette didn't know what her mom had said to her teacher, but Ms. Bustier had stopped cutting Marinette off entirely when she was standing up to Chloe (and Lila, too, which was interesting), instead cutting off the fight when the other person was trying to argue back. There were no more remember-you-need-to-set-an-example looks, either, which was a relief.

Still, it was early yet, and her teachers' behavior wasn't the only thing that could make Marinette upset.

Marinette's second trip out to the countryside happened about a week after the first one, and had been more of a precaution than removing herself from any actual danger. Alya had been gushing about one of Lila's most recent lies and then had gotten annoyed at Marinette's refusal to eat lunch at school so that she could "get to know" Lila better so that she "could stop being jealous". It was something that happened so often that all Marinette really felt at that was annoyance, but, well, it was their lunch hour and it was nice to be able to sit in a meadow of flowers over a gorgeous mountain lake and freely express her frustrations with Alya's Lila obsession to Tikki and Kaalki.

Besides, the amazing view was really calming and inspiring, and Marinette returned to Paris a whole lot more relaxed and refreshed than she had left it.

"Okay, so normally I would frown upon unnecessary use of a Miraculous, but I think I might need to reassess my definition of unnecessary," Tikki admitted as Marinette packed her backpack for afternoon classes. "I feel a lot better after having that break, and I can tell that you do, too. I'm not saying that we should hop out to the countryside every day, but I don't think anyone will really mind it if you don't just use it for emergencies."

"We'll call it general mental health improvements," Marinette said with a giggle. "And I don't think Kaalki will complain- she was playing in the flowers as much as you were!"

Tikki giggled as well, looking far more like the cheerful, positive kwami that Marinette had gotten to know at the start of their time together than she had been recently. "A break is really nice. And you have the akuma alerts on your phone, so we can get back to Paris in a moment if we're needed."

Marinette tried not to look too amused. Clearly Tikki had really liked getting out of Paris. She wasn't going to complain, though, because it was really, really nice to be able to get away from things for a bit and not have to always be monitoring herself and her emotions. Away from Hawkmoth's akumas, Marinette could get frustrated and yell and actually face her emotions and come away stronger for it.

She hadn't come up with any long-term solutions, not yet. Marinette had tried the obvious- calling out Lila's lies, trying to bring the obvious contradictions and falsehoods to Alya's attention, straight-up questioning if Alya had done any verification of facts- and none of them had worked. But she was still trying.

Trips three and four- well, they were pretty similar to trip number two, where Marinette could have moved past her feelings but had appreciated the ability to actually grumble and vent first and besides, it was easy enough to grab her lunch and vanish off to the mountains or a forest for an hour to eat. Trip five was mostly just because Marinette had an entire Saturday where she didn't have anywhere that she needed to be, because the girl squad was hanging out with Lila, and it was so much easier to get her homework done without distractions when she was hanging out in a field instead of sitting at her desk, surrounded by projects and books and magazines that she had yet to read.

Trip six for much the same reason was interrupted by an akuma that had Marinette rushing to return to Paris, and trip seven was really just an extension of the sixth trip because she had forgotten to gather up all of her school things in her hurry to get back to Paris.

"Your energy has improved," Master Fu commented when Marinette headed over to his apartment for a lesson. He was smiling as he ushered her in. "Has having the Horse Miraculous helped, then?"

"Very much, Master Fu," Marinette assured him. She ducked her head, finally feeling a bit sheepish for the first time. Since Tikki and Kaalki had both been fine with and had even encouraged hopping out of the city to relax in the countryside, even when Marinette wasn't actually all that upset, she had maybe taken advantage of the Horse's powers a bit. While Marinette had certainly felt better ever since she had started escaping Paris and relaxing under the trees, surrounded by birdsong, it probably wasn't quite what the old Guardian had had in mind when he gave her the Horse Miraculous to use. "It's nice to be able to get out of the city and be able to actually face my emotions instead of shoving them away."

"And we've found that just relaxing out in the countryside helps out a lot, too," Tikki added, floating out of Marinette's purse and looking as sheepish as Marinette felt. "Even if, uh, nothing in particular happened. Or if it was just something small."

Master Fu considered them and Marinette watched him, suddenly anxious. Was she going to get scolded for misusing a Miraculous? She doubted that he would take the Horse Miraculous away from her, since it was so important that she not get akumatized and that was their best way to prevent that right now, but it was very possible that she would have to seriously cut back on the number of trips she took outside of the city. But what if he did decide that she hadn't been responsible enough with the second Miraculous and took it away and-

"I don't see any problem with that," Master Fu said at last. "There are parts of me, of course, that disagree. After all, I had the instruction to never use the Miraculous for anything except things like battle and healing drilled into me during my time at the temple and, well, what happened there only drove the message in deeper. But there are many ways to consider health, both mental and physical, and if leaving the city to do your homework in the countryside helps ease your burden and clear your mind... well, Kaalki doesn't mind, or she would have said something. And I assume that you would have told me if she had said something."

"Kaalki likes it," Tikki assured him hastily. "She's been encouraging it, even! We've been researching different places, because she so likes exploring- not outside of France, because we don't want weird charges coming up on Marinette's phone bill, but cool places in France that are away from people enough that no one will see the portal."

Marinette just nodded, relieved. She had been so, so worried that he would think that she was abusing her powers, but if Master Fu thought that her less-than-necessary trips out of Paris were okay, then...well, Marinette wasn't going to question it too much. They had been making her feel better for sure, and the landscapes that she was seeing...

Well, Paris was inspiring, there was no doubt about that. The gardens and skylines and architecture and history and shops and general fashion were all a huge source of inspiration for Marinette, but they could only go so far. Streams and meadows and forests and waterfalls and mountains...

It was a new environment, really, a break from Marinette's normal, and now she was itching to create a tank top or a dress that would flow like her new favorite little stream. And maybe traditional florals weren't exactly Marinette's thing, but flower-inspired embroidery or watercolor patterning could be.

"So I would continue as you are," Master Fu told Marinette. "Obviously the most ideal situation would be for you to not need to leave Paris in order to not become akumatized, but if eliminating the source of your stress is proving too difficult or you simply find that you relax better outside of Paris, then that is understandable."

Marinette nodded, exchanging an excited look with Tikki. Now that they had their permission, she wouldn't feel vaguely guilty anymore every time that she used Voyage when she didn't need to. If Master Fu thought that it was okay and even healthy for her to leave the city regularly, then that was all the permission she needed.

And just like that, the burden on her shoulders eased a little bit more.

  Plagg could tell that Ladybug's mood had improved dramatically over the past couple of weeks, despite things at school not really changing that much, as far as he could tell. Once he talked to Tikki, the reason became obvious.

Letting Ladybug hop outside of the city using Voyage to let off a bit of steam? Genius. And it sounded like Ladybug was using the Horse just for fun, too, just to relax, which... well, she deserved it. Also, it was about time Tikki let up on her insufferable gotta-be-all-about-duty, no-fun-allowed attitude.

But that wasn't the point or even a concern at the moment, because his kid's father had pushed too much, demanded too much, and then was far too cold to Adrien over a very small mistake. That had gotten Adrien frustrated and overwhelmed and upset, and now he was in serious danger of getting akumatized.

Ladybug couldn't get herself akumatized, because then there would be no one to purify the akuma. She was crazy tactical on top of that, and even Master Fu pulling in all of their backups probably wouldn't be able to match her sheer brainpower and creativity when it came to fighting and setting traps. And if she couldn't get her Miraculous safely sent off with Tikki before the akuma took over, then there was the possibility that Hawkmoth might get the Ladybug Miraculous. That was bad.

But Adrien- Chat Noir- getting akumatized would be bad, too. Ladybug relied on her partner a lot, even if Adrien sometimes didn't realize it, and she had never fought him properly. Whenever he was being controlled by an akuma's powers, his fighting was a bit held back. It was muted. There was still him somewhere in there, subconsciously holding back just enough that Ladybug could get that opening she needed. If he was akumatized...

That subconscious hold-back would be overridden. On top of that, Adrien's guilt at getting akumatized...

He already felt bad enough when he couldn't make an akuma attack because he legitimately had no way to get away from his civilian duties, or when he got hit by an akuma's powers and couldn't be there fighting by Ladybug's side. Plagg didn't even want to think about how bad Adrien would feel if he got akumatized.

Which meant that right now, Adrien either needed to be calmed down really fast or removed from the situation entirely before an akuma could find him. Plagg didn't want to take over Tikki's previous role as Kwami of Repressing Emotions, which meant that he needed to go for the second option. Which meant that they needed Ladybug to use the Hose's portal to get Chat Noir out of Paris, ASAP.

So Plagg focused all of his energy and attention inwards for a minute, sending an urgent message to Tikki to have her and her horse-ed up Chosen come to the Eiffel Tower ASAP and to Voyage Chat Noir off to the countryside immediately. As soon as the message went through and Tikki sent back an affirmation, Plagg spun back around on Plagg.

"Up, up, transform and get to the Eiffel Tower now," Plagg demanded, tapping Adrien's shoulder. If they didn't move and Hawkmoth wasn't out of town, he had no doubt that they would be seeing a purple butterfly soon enough. "C'mon kid, up."

Adrien rolled over from where he was lying face-down on his bed and regarded Plagg. "Is there an akuma?"

"No, but you gotta get out of Paris before any butterflies come after you and Ladybug's got the Horse. C'mon, she's on her way, let's go!"

Thankfully, Adrien didn't protest any further. He transformed and ran for the Eiffel Tower, just barely landing on one of the upper beams when he was tackled from the side, off of the tower and through a portal. He and Ladybug landed in a bit of a tangle in a meadow bordering a forest, and for once Chat Noir didn't get distracted by their position, rolling off of Ladybug at once and making a dash for the trees. Once he was in a ways, he detransformed.

"You can go hang out with Ladybug," Adrien told Plagg once the kwami spiraled free. His voice sounded a bit choked. "I just- I need a moment to myself."

"Of course." Plagg hesitated a moment, then zipped back out towards the light. Horse-bug was still in the middle, her back against a large, rounded boulder. She had already pulled out a notebook and was working on homework, it looked like, or at least she was trying to. The concerned looks that she kept sending the trees probably made it a bit difficult to actually get any work done.

"'Sup, Horsefly!" Plagg said cheerfully, zipping around the rock and perching on Ladybug's shoulder. She startled but, to her credit, didn't immediately start screaming or scramble away. "Whatcha up to?"

Ladybug's glare was positively poisonous. "Horsefly?"

"Yeah! 'Cause you've got the Horse Miraculous, and flies are bugs, right? And normally you're Ladybug, so..."

Her expression went flat. "I'm setting Tikki on you. And you're not getting any cheese bread. Ever."

Plagg blinked, then promptly went backpedaling. "It was just a joke! It's not like I've been calling you that regularly or anything, ha-ha, that would be dumb, I definitely wouldn't do that. And that name wouldn't fit anyway, you're very refined and elegant and everything and horseflies aren't at all, so, uh, yeah! Just a joke, don't set Tikki on me, please don't withhold the cheese bread, you're fantastic!"

Ladybug did Not Look Impressed. Plagg...supposed that he couldn't blame her. Before he could make another stab at smoothing things over- he didn't want to lose his access to Marinette's cheese bread before he could even get it- a rather feral scream ripped out of the woods. The two of them startled, whipping around to stare at the trees. After a moment, though, Ladybug let out a snort of laughter.

"I did exactly the same thing when I first came out here," she admitted, settling back against the rock and releasing the Horse portion of her transformation. Classy glasses perched on top of her nose, and she pushed them up onto the top of her head. "Just screamed and screamed until I went hoarse to let all of the stress out. It builds up so, so much, more than I realized. And then once I could just scream my head off..."

Humans had strange stress relief mechanisms, Plagg decided, but he supposed Ladybug's reasoning made some sort of sense. He had seen Adrien scream into his pillow a couple of times to blow off a little steam before, and this was, well, a lot of steam.

"I can see why you pick spots that aren't near any hiking trails or roads," Plagg commented as another muffled scream made its way through the trees. It didn't sound scared or in pain, though, so he figured that Adrien was still doing fine. Physically, at least. "I think you might alarm some people with the screaming. I'm surprised that my kid isn't trying to muffle it, actually, he's usually the sort to suffer in silence when people who aren't me are there." The I was worried that he would be worried about you judging him went unsaid.

Plagg knew that Ladybug wouldn't judge Chat Noir, of course. They were partners and Ladybug could sympathize with too many expectations and scream-inducing stress, obviously, since she had the Horse Miraculous for this exact reason. But Adrien tended to hold his cards close to his chest even with his friends, which, considering his father, wasn't really a surprise. Plagg had seen Mr. Agreste shut down his son's feelings too often to really feel any surprise when Adrien put on his poker face even in front of his friends, opting for the path of least resistance instead of pushing back in any way.

"I could tell that he was upset," Ladybug said after a pause, her voice quiet. "I mean, he was practically screaming it with every line of his body. And...there was an akuma headed for him, when he was on the Eiffel Tower. I got it and purified it before it could make contact and so that it wouldn't fly off and get someone else when we vanished, but that- it was just way too close."

That was too close. Maybe Plagg could get his kid to join Ladybug on her more regular excursions to the countryside to get some relaxation and regular tree-screaming in. That wouldn't solve the problem of Adrien just having an awful father, but it might buy them enough breathing room to be able to not attract an akuma the next time that Gabriel Agreste was an awful person.

Or maybe he should say the next time that Gabriel Agreste was an outstandingly awful person. After all, the elder Agreste's baseline state of being seemed to be awful.

"It wasn't a great day," Plagg admitted. "And I'm not going to over-share, 'cause my kid would get mad at me and I don't want him to start hiding his emotions from me, too, but he would probably benefit from getting out of Paris every so often, too." He snorted, derisive. "If his handlers allow any time in his schedule, that is."

Ladybug looked troubled at that, which probably meant that Plagg had said too much in his annoyance with Adrien's father. Hopefully she wouldn't poke at that too much, at least not when Chat Noir was around.

"I have a friend who always seems to have things scheduled," Ladybug said, and Plagg tried not to react because, uh, that was his kid. Ladybug was getting a little too close to the truth for comfort. "Even when he has a gap in his schedule, whenever he tries to fit in something with us, his father schedules something for him instead. I'm honestly amazed that he's not been akumatized over that, because it has to be upsetting."

"Uh-huh," Plagg said, because what else could he say? Then his ears perked, pointing towards the woods. The screaming had stopped, which probably meant that Adrien had gotten the anger out of his system and had moved on to sadness, which also meant that Plagg should go check in on him and help Adrien work through his feelings. Which admittedly wasn't exactly his strong point, so... "Say, how has Tikki been recently? Still trying to get you to see everyone else's point of view, or...?"

Thankfully, Ladybug shook her head. "We've come to an understanding that there's a time and place for that, and it's not when I'm upset about something. We still talk about other people's points of view, of course, because understanding where people are coming from can help create long-term solutions, but it's not an excuse for their behavior and doesn't invalidate my feelings."

"Fantastic. Can you detransform, then, so Tikki and I can go talk with my kid?" Plagg asked hopefully. "I'm not very good at the talking stuff, really, and playing comic relief only goes so far."

"Of course!" Ladybug detransformed in a flash of pink sparkles, then settled back against the rock. "Take your time. I'm not needed anywhere, and I want my kitty feeling his best. It's really helped me to come out here, and it would be great if Chat Noir gets to have that, too. "

"Thank you, Ladybug!" Plagg told her, grabbing Tikki's paw and tugging her along towards the forest. "You're fantastic!"

Hopefully he and Tikki could help Adrien work through some of his frustrations and misery. Plagg hated to see his Chosens upset, and Plagg didn't want to see Adrien akumatized, either. It would be best, of course, if Gabriel Agreste just vanished off of the face of the earth with Hawkmoth not far behind him, but barring that happening, Plagg would have to content himself with just getting Adrien happy and in a healthier place mentally. The improvement that Ladybug had made recently was incredible, and if both superheroes were doing better, Plagg suspected that that would result in exponentially happier superheroes.

After all, a happy, rested, relaxed superhero was a focused superhero, and a focused superhero meant that their partner wouldn't be forced to pick up the slack in order to keep fighting, and that meant a less stressed partner and a stronger partnership. On top of that, if the superheroes were spending more time together outside of battles in a relaxed environment, then maybe they would be clear-headed enough to come up with plans for taking down Hawkmoth for good.

Maybe Plagg still didn't understand the whole screaming at the trees thing, but, well, if that could get Paris' superheroes back to their old, relatively relaxed and not-at-risk selves, then he wouldn't question it.

[lunar-rose-academy]

How 2 RP - Part 1.5 (A little extra)

Hey everyone! Masao here~ Welcome to part 1.5, a little extra for you all, where i interview a experienced RPer, who shares their story, and give their own tips for RP. I thought it would be nice to hear from someone that has more experience then i do.

Today, we talk with:

@captainkurosolaire

​​A very good friend of mine who was actually one of my very first RP friends back in the days of Heavensward. Kuro was one of the first groups i joined, called Goldbrand. A pirate group that mostly focused on hunting Relics and the like. I learned a lot about RP from him, and made me really enjoy writing stories. He is also a very awesome dude and very humble. I hope our little interview helps you get motivated to RP, and to set that first step into the fantastic world of FFXIV!

My first question for Kuro was:

When you started RP, how did you start? Did you have a lot of help? Kuro: I started 6 years ago in XIV RP. I've been LARPing, I've built my own scuffed tabletop game with me and a bud, I've done WoW RP (Didn't click with me due to bad introduction to it.) As an only child, I've always had nothing but the highest of imagination's and I've always been tethered to create and build.I had tons of help. I wouldn't be here in the community without one of my ex's who drove me into it. I was a cuck. They shaped me and saw that, I was passionately nerdy about this stuff and always directed me towards this but, I was a shy bean and in a cocoon thought I’d fail or be a burden. After they parted with me for being naive and needing to harden me with heartbreak, I took a gamble for myself. Leaped in after a person named Sei took me in, I created Captain off just his glamour alone and then built off the tiny sketches with what I had in solo and overtime.Started from Gilgamesh, then went to Balmung. This was the era when Quicksands a majority of the time was filled with ERP and anything on the outskirts, were the more serious players and you had to go looking. I made a character fit and based around Quicksands and centered around the atmosphere. It felt fitting. So I went brash from being the most introvert by playing the most opposite to me. To not only challenge myself, but to force me to learn more. This overall was more productive of aiding in my conquest for building my Tabletop game, at first, it was mainly for that...Then eventually as my reputation was mainly ERP but somehow my F-list had some actual character-depth, I expanded and branched off. I was told by my Kahn'a my practical Yoshi P and lore guide. Some helpful hints and after that they practically set me up for transitioning out of just being a smut writer, even though I had a story behind each thing, I wanted to transition out. Then I met Verrine, Mishi, Thorcatte, Sun’ra, These people really put the ground-works into my story alongside Kahn'a, everywhere I turned, every person I met, they were inspirations, they were aiding me in RPing and feeling like this is my home, this is the land of the nerds and I owe them everything for letting me find this haven.Eventually another friend told me basically, why not just DM(Dungeon Master). Since I had contacts, I had the RP and creativity for it. They pointed me in that direction. Wasn't until I met my longest and really huge gratitude of an RPer in Ayla, who eventually inspired and led me into not only you. But bringing in many others who I eventually found as crew.I owe a tremendous amount to Ayla... Without a shadow of a doubt. Kahn'a too, but I could say literally, I owe everyone, four-hundred people in my head right now. From I've ever contacted or came into RP or even plotted none of their experiences have ever gone to waste. They each gave me a presence of passion. I transitioned off; led a huge DM group that was mainly done because you reached back out after I hit a downward spiral. After I left everything behind and ruined nearly all of it and lost my mojo.You rose me back like the phoenix, I eventually created a plot so massive that I could DM for like thirty individual people with the right support and people, did I fail in being a community leader or dealing with drama and involving everyone with my health and limited energy? You're damn straight. -- I failed utterly horrendously!  However -- It wasn't entirety wasn't in vain, people found their little groups and pockets in that, they met their meshes. Which objectively, that's all that matters as someone who organizes those to bring people together and in.After that... I transitioned into Tumblr more after being encouraged by people like Fair-Fae from afar, to Sei. Then worked on drumming to the beats given. To every person, even the ones that are angry emoji in the background-- I love em' their passion rubs into me and it breathes of air, gives me wings better than red-bull advertises! As someone who's dealing with an inoperable and bed-ridden rare disease, I've never been or felt more alive.I owe so much to people, and it's why I've stuck around for six years now and continue to batter up against the foul. This is why, I want to raise, boost, encourage, and rally others to be shared so they find in match-making their RP partners, and despite... I know my writing style hasn't ever been everyone's flavor, I never have ever thought of ever wanting someone not to find happiness. I couldn't give up RP at this stage. My next question would be, If you could give a tip to someone who just wanted to start to get into RP, what would you say to them? Kuro:  Know this. Getting into RP is a joke. It's really easy, you possess already every tool to be a tremendous RPer! Much better than I and I ever will be.

Short version: Just communicate. RP It's merely a Dance that can be positively enchanting, magical! -- I don't care what anyone says. ~ It's a partnership, you've got to find the people who keep up with pace and momentum, or blend with your style. You won't always find that and it's not a bad thing if that can't work. Some characters don't connect, some are opposite but they can still work. That's because it requires, one additional thing that requires: a pillar of effort. Don't let yourself be overwhelmed. Looking from the outside this game I've heard and seen, It's intimidatingly daunting. It's a lot to get into. Though this game? It's unoriginal. There isn't anything you can't create in this game, you have science, you've got alchemy, you've got magic. This game is literally called Fantasy in the title, this game has yanked and pulled off all the foundations of RL concepts, other fantasy tropes, religions, and renamed them and splashes over paint. You can do the same... Anything can be explained, I don't care what it is. People are fundamentally not grown as the exact same, I'm not personally here to be a clone trooper. Now If I want to play that, I can even do that respectively.* Look around the game visually, see if you think it can be done with the setting and place, build yourself something anything, you've got a whole box of legos don’t step on them. It’s proven constantly your creativity can be endless the more you play over time, or invest, put yourself out there. Go look into some guides, pull from a book, or google anything you’re thinking about. Again: People have styles they're different. You may appeal to being an NPC, you may like to be extended into Lore, you may not like all the fantasy, that's more than reasonable, it's all valid... There are people that feel you, they're waiting for YOU. Then you'll find people who are open-minded, you'll find people like me, I was in RP's with aliens, voidsents, normal people, WoL, like I've witnessed a lot. Listen to them, let them explain, and most often they fit. If you're too close-minded to accept then you don't need to worry you’ve already decided they’re not you, or your taste, leave them to their devices let them have their happiness, and go back to the scour. Don’t try harassing or bothering something that’s not there or ever will work. Wastes time and misery and drama isn’t worth unless it’s within stories, trust me. See for me... I’ve seen it all. People saying aetherfeeders and vampires didn't exist they cried on the forums and held a tantrum you had people say for years -- then boom RDM storyline and Stormblood came out debunked. Submarines weren’t things prior to SB despite we’ve got Garlean’s over here casually making Gundam’s. Their careers are over they played themselves -- this game is still continuing and always will if you're waiting for official confirmation from a -book- then you're going to be miserable, you're living off the backbone of a book meant to 'guide' and be resourceful in extension not to weaponize it and be a prick to people who don’t follow strictly the same ethic as you’ve so randomly chosen for yourself in standards, I hate to burst bubbles, but you’re never going to be 100% accurate, never ever. You didn’t create this game -- or it, therefore you can’t be anything but a replicator you’re just stuck either limiting your pieces or taking from an entire tub of building material. You aren't playing the book, you're playing the game. That's the real cannon, you literally visually see everything that's going to happen, you can bend it with predictions and logistical math. See XIV, they bend-over concepts of the real and made them fit or pried. I don't just bend lore… I bend it over. Why would there ever be anything that cannot be created? It's just how you interpret it, there are lazy ways to explain things, then there are thorough and detailed methods to get to the same realization of what you want to create that'll work and fit like puzzles to slots this story could’ve foretold. If done correctly more often then not XIV will follow suit in the same thing an expansion later if you stick to your wings, I’ve done it numerous times it feels like XIV has followed copied my test and then tried not to make it look obvious its because stories we’ve brazenly written together in deep-thinking. When my character is tagged IC that's it. Everything he witnesses or sees, I'm not refuting it. That's my chosen though, I see Quicksands and there's no way that place on my Balmung Shard and experiences is it clean, is it lead properly, or the official’s high representatives who totally are just fine with letting a Voidsent blow up the city-state. My character witnessed that, it’s set in stone. Though that's the option and you should always find what makes you comfortable, who makes you comfortable and consider that above all else. Often or not, everyone uses RP as an escape just as they play games. Don't sacrifice, don't lose yourself or not give self-love for what makes you passionate, don’t neglect yourself in taking control of being empowered and attaining friendships, fun, or treating yourself to something new to possibly take something lovely out of finding RP can be and make it all positive for yourself. Myself? I’m inspired by every person new and old who’s been in this game. I love it, do I bleed for it as my canvas? By the Twelve you know it! I’m only ever going to write stories and continue to build and grow, to learn. To do anything to give back. When a passion gives you life, you show that thankfulness by blazing that flame. My last question would be: Is there anything else you wanted to add or say to people? Kuro:  Nope. Rest boils to the decisions you pave yourself and if you want to take the plunge. Just know you're worthy, valid, and this place isn't and never will be one batch or selective, It’s not too late ever there’s no expiration to get into RP, there’s a reason RP last longer than the lifespan of the game’s even when they’ve hit the lowest of lows in dry content, there’s always been unity. If there's one thing this community does well it’s looking after one another.And If they fail to deliver. I know there are people like me who'd rather raise up then pound down.You got this, champs. And that was my interview with Kuro. Looking at his answers, there is a lot that i can agree with. The community of FFXIV is a very great one. If one person is down or needs help, the FFXIV community is the first one to jump up and help with what they can. Hence, its why i made this! To help you, reading this. Just remember, that there are always people out there that are willing to help you. And a person such as Kuro, and of course, myself, will do whatever we can to help those in need. Thank you all so much for the support, and i hope you all have a good day. Also! If you are a RPer, and you would like to be interviewed too, let me know! Send me a message over here on Tumblr, or add me on discord: Masao#2913. And feel free to ask anything related to RP, or even FFXIV. Hope you all are looking forward to the next one~

[lonely-bored-writer]

Casper High Ch. 4

Danny Fenton spends a lot of time in his room, according to his parents- yet in all honesty he often flies out the window to attend to other ghostly matters. If he wasn't busy fighting ghosts, he was busy catching up with school work, or talking to his best friends over the phone or computer. Nonetheless, this past week consisted of Danny spending smaller amounts of time doing his normal everyday routine, and instead spending time with a certain Winchester.

It reminded Danny of all things he missed about having his friends around to physically interact with. He had gotten so used to eating lunch alone, and spending all of his time consumed with other things, it was nice to have new things to do. To have someone spend hours doing absolutely nothing with but enjoying each others company nonetheless was a refreshing break from his usually chaotic life.

"Wait, so Sam believes in Phantom even if he hasn't seen him?"

'Maybe Sam has added a bit of complication to his life,' Danny thought, it was odd but not totally unwelcomed.'

"I don't know, maybe, Tuck. Something Mikey said to him a few days ago brought this interest out." Danny sighed, running a hand through his unruly hair. "He's spent some time doing research in the library."

"But every piece of evidence is gone right?" Manson asked, her attention being pulled from the black makeup she was applying, her back facing her computer screen so that the boys could see her face in the reflection of the large mirror in front of her. "I mean, everything with backing, damning evidence that could prove that Phantom isn't much more than a fable now."

"Well yeah, but we already know that some people believe the fairy tale stories still in the library." Tucker cut in before his raven-haired friend could respond. "We've got nothing to worry about Danny, it's like bigfoot, no one has hard proof- and any 'proof' is easily debunked."

"I guess you guys are right." Danny nodded, not able to shake the looming feeling that things wouldn't be that easy- nothing in his life ever truly was. "Anyways, how about we focus on the fact our Sammy has gotten a date."

"Ooooooh, that's what the make up is about? Must be a lucky girl." Tucker grinned, placing his chin on one palm, "Spill the beans, who is this chick."

"You're so lucky I'm hours away and you're safe from my boots right now." Sam glared, before continuing. "Her names Aino, and she transferred here a few months back. She's the one from the super glue incident in art class."

"I like her." Tucker stated, matter-of-fact. "You have my blessing."

"Well thank you dad, not that I asked." Sam rolled her amethyst eyes, leaning out of frame to fix her eyeliner, using a smaller mirror to help with precision.

"I like her name." Danny added, smiling at the groan it got from Sam, "Besides, anyone who can somehow sneak thirty pounds of super glue into a school is perfect for you in my book."

"She's actually planning to do something similar with pudding in a few weeks actually."

"Nooooooo!" Tucker dragged, pressing a hand to his chest. "Sam you have got to marry this girl, or I will."

"I'm sorry Tuck, but she's not into guys who have already been married to their PDAs." Sam shot back in a heartbeat, pulling a laugh from her friends. Moving back, she turned to the computer. "How'd I look?" Sam had changed some since she left Amity, if only to become more… Sam- that was the best way to explain it. Her short black hair only got shorter, before the left sided became shaved down to spite her parents, a few new piercing decorated her left ear lobe, and a brow piercing rested on her right brow. Her outfit was a simple black tank top, grey shorts, fishnets and an oversize army green jacket over it all, finished off with none other than her favorite pair of chained combat boots.

"Perfect."

"Goth, and intimidating."

"Just what I wanted." Sam grinned, running a hand through her hair.

"So, when do we meet this lucky lady?" Danny laughed at the glare Sam flashed the camera.

"This is our first date." Sam deadpanned, unblinking, already done with her friends shenanigans.

"Dude, that's not the right question." Tucker chastised, tapping the camera. "What you meant was when is the wedding."

"I'm gonna go now." Sam hissed, her camera going black before signing off.

"How much do you want to bet we meet Aino in a week." Tucker laughed along with Danny.

"I bet in three days." Danny grinned, glancing over at the time before sighing. "I have to go on patrol soon."

"Don't fret dude." Tucker sighed. "I've got to finish a last minute robotics paper. It's a pain."

"Good Luck." Danny smiled, before the two bid their goodbyes. With a sigh, the halfa pulled himself out of his computer chair and made his way to his window. Time for another night filled with flying around the town for hours.

It was two in the morning when Danny found himself wandering around the park as Fenton. He did this occasionally when he couldn't sleep even if it served best to try to sleep anyways. By this time the park was often completely deserted so it was interesting to find someone swinging nonchalantly on the swings bathed only in the moonlight... and their own glow.

The shiver that raked down his spine, and puff of soft blue air was enough to confirm this was a spirit. Based on the softness of the glow and the much more human-like skin was also a large indicator that this spirit had yet to fully manifest.

"Hey?" Danny called out softly, making his way over to the swings. His only response was a glance. Danny was able to make out the light pink eyes, and scarred cheek. "Wanna tell me why your here at this time of night in a park?" Danny asked, settling himself next to the spirit.

"Where else will I go?" The ghost asked, kicking his legs softly.

"Maybe to the Zone." Danny offered softly, swinging slightly as well. The confused look he got confirmed his suspicions. "You don't know what that is, do you?"

"Is it like Heaven?" The voice wavered and echoed softly, like it wasn't all there, which matched the ghost's appearance perfectly in an eerie way.

"Not quite. You can make your own little paradise though in the Zone." Danny smiled, looking up to the moon. "A hunter has his own hunting grounds, a scientist his own lab, a singer her own studio, whatever you want. Your imagination is your limit."

"What's your name?" The ghost whispered, staring at their feet.

"Danny, though most ghosts know me as Phantom or the 'Ghost Child'."

"Wait, you're Phantom?!" The spirit looked over shocked. "You aren't as mean as I heard you would be."

"Depends who you talk to." Danny chuckled. "But for the most part, I just try to keep the peace."

"What's your name?" Danny asked after a lull in the conversation.

"Ekon." The ghost, now identified, responded. "I'm not sure how long I've been a ghost if I'm being honest."

"It happens." Danny explained calmly. This ghost used to be a human and it was obviously nervous and unsure- being harsh would do nothing except possibly permanently scar the ghost for the rest of their eternity in the afterlife. "Some ghosts could be dead for years before their consciousness manifests."

"How can I go to the Zone?" Ekon asked suddenly, turning coral pink eyes to Danny.

"Just have to go through a portal." Danny offered a smile. "Lucky for you, I happen to have one in my basement."

"You're a lot nicer then I expected." Ekon spoke, a twinkle in his eyes. "When can you take me?"

Danny paused, running a quick mental check over how he was feeling. He was all caught up on his homework, and he doesn't feel tired…

"I can take you now." The spark of hope that filled the spirits face was worth missing sleep tonight.

Danny needs to stop missing sleep. After so many all-nighters, and the caffeine filled drinks that he often times consumed allowed his body to grow a tolerance against the heavenly beverages, not allowing him to take advantage of their effects anymore. The plus side was he forgot it was a weekend, and was able to sleep an extra two hours before his internal clock woke him. That and the smell of bacon.

"Morning honey, how did you sleep?" Maddie greeted her son with a kiss to the top of his hair, setting down a plate of waffles and bacon in front of him.

"Thanks mom." Danny smiled, just now realizing how hungry he was. That most likely had to do with the hours he spent in ghost form inside the Zone, settling Ekon in and creating an amiable friendship between the new ghost and Klemper. "I slept alright, you?"

"Not very much." Maddie admitted, sipping on a cup of coffee. "Your father's catching up on sleep, but we're one step away from a giant break through."

"Really? What about?" Danny stifled a yawn, popping a piece of bacon into his mouth and dousing a heaping serving of syrup on top of his waffles.

"Your father and I think we narrowed down to the exact component in ectoplasm that give ghosts their abilities." Maddie explained. "If we can separate that component, we could very well apply those abilities to absolutely anything."

"That would explain the ecto-dogs in the fridge." Danny supplied around a mouthful of waffle, pulling a laugh from his mother.

"Swallow first, then speak." Maddie reminded, getting a sheepish smile in response. "And yes, it even opens the possibility of humans being able to use such abilities."

"What-" Danny choked, coughing slightly before continuing. "Wouldn't that turn them into a ghost?"

"Not quite." Maddie shook her head, pausing slightly to put her thoughts in order. "The healing factors found in these specters can do wonders in medical advancement if we can place the exact component."

"Ah..." Danny trailed, eyes trained on his half eaten waffles. His mind mulling over the information he learned and wondering if it was a threat or not.

"Well, I'm off to join your dad in his nap." Maddie stood, dropping her mug in the sink. She continued after dropping another peck on her son. "I left a bit of cash on the coffee table in case you plan on going out."

"Sleep well mom, love you." Danny waited until he heard the faint 'I love you' before standing to leave. He did plan to meet with Sam Winchester at the nasty burger in a few hours. It didn't mean he had to stay in his house until then- he could walk around Amity for a bit before making his way over.

"Hey Sam." Danny greeted with a smile, sliding into the booth across from the taller teen. "Sorry I'm late, my dad dragged me into one of his experiments." Danny offered an apologetic smile. In reality Danny felt bad for lying to Sam, on his way there he was stopped by Cujo who was dragging around a scared Ghostwriter. That had been quite a chase.

"You're good, I actually hadn't noticed." Sam returned with a sheepish smile, closing his laptop.

"What's the distraction this time?" Danny asked, settling in his seat and stealing a fry from Sam's tray.

"Creative writing." Sam sighed, laying a hand on top of his computer. "Mr. Leedee comes back from leave tomorrow, and I complete forgot about his project. Given we are just coming up with an idea list, we get partners tomorrow."

"Ouch, projects are never fun. Throwing in partners? That just makes it worse." Danny responded. "What's the topic?"

"We're supposed to write a story based on a fable, or fairy-tale, or urban legend we know about."

"That shouldn't be too hard. There's tons to choose from." Danny offered, receiving a sheepish smile back.

"That's the point, there are so many." Danny couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him.

"What are your choices?" Danny asked, accepting the laptop as it was slid over to him. The raven haired teen's eyebrows furrowed at the list; the Winchester had only listened one fairy-tale while the rest seemed to be urban legends. "I'd say Hansel and Gretel. Less morbid then the rest." Danny deduced, sliding the laptop close.

"Well, let's hope my partner is fine with that." Sam offered back, before relaxing. A small silence passed between the two, the two teens taking in the food before them before conversation rose again. "Anything new?"

"Not really, I'm still waiting to hear about Sam's date with Aino."

"Sam had a date?" The youngest Winchester looked shocked.

"I didn't tell you?!"

"I never thought Sam would find someone to date in high school, especially with how you described her- nothing against her though anyways."

"Honestly, neither did Tuck and I." Danny laughed along with Sam, happy to see his new friend take an interest in his best friends. "So get this, Aino was the girl from this incident..."

[abuserfriendly]

Don't Buy the Airline Industry's Snow Job on Inflight Hygiene

I love travel and unlike some railfans I am not usually given to slagging on the airlines. Nevertheless, I do think the airline industry (especially in the USA) has lots of rage-inducing practices and I have always resented the industry's insistence that treating passengers well is diametrically at odds with controlling costs- that has always been a false dichotomy in my opinion- and I am especially disappointed with the ongoing degradation of the front-cabin (business and first class) experience. Now covid19 is crushing passenger airlines, and this supposedly "profitable" industry has shoveled up $25 billion taxpayer dollars, roughly 25 years' worth of Federal Amtrak subsidies, with every indication that they will ask for more in short order. Meanwhile, the very business model of airlines as they have operated to date is now in question and the  industry refuses to address the questions. To be clear, I am not referring to the temporary problem of lack of demand due to economic conditions and travel restrictions: I am talking about the business model predicated on packing people into a tiny space that is irritant and uncomfortable for many hours without basic provisions for health or sanitation. Taxpayers are owed more than what this industry is offering in the way of a get-well plan before they throw good money after bad.

Let's get something straight: social distancing is and always will be impossible on an airliner, except maybe if you are the only passenger or one of a very small handful of passengers on a widebody jet. That's not where the industry's unaddressed existential threat lies though. The airlines are now hard at work reminding everyone about how the "hospital grade" air filtration on their planes is keeping air travel safe. They will tout that most (in other words: not all) modern airliners are equipped with HEPA air filtration. Well, congratulations! You're employing the same air filtration technology I can get in a 12-pack of filters for the furnace in my basement for an average extra cost of about $1.50 per. Despite the fact that these filters are cheap commodities, I still wonder if the maximum recommended replacement interval is being observed in the same industry that can't bring itself to properly maintain their fleets overall. Moreover, all the talk about the air purification systems on mainline jets like Boeing 737s is in plain denial of the fact that at least half of passengers end up spending part if not all of their journey on a regional jet. I wonder why they aren't talking about the air filtration systems on Canadair CRJ-200s or Embraer 145s? Could it be that planes that barely have enough space for each passenger's overnight bag don't have much of an air purification system?

Air filtration aside, the reality of air travel and health is that it is not the cleanliness of the air that endangers your health during a respiratory pandemic. The problem is the dryness of the air. On average, the relative humidity in a modern airliner cabin is a parched 12% and it is almost always less than 20%, lower than the 30% threshold for discomfort for humans. Dry air irritates pretty much all types of human tissue including the skin, the lungs, and the sinus passages. This causes postnasal drip, coughing and sneezing. The air inside planes is so dry that it will cause many people to sniffle, cough, and sneeze even if they aren't sick, and if your skin is dried out and itchy, you're going to touch it. This is why people get sick when they fly: in addition to being in a very tight space with a bunch of strangers for several hours, you and your fellow passengers are coughing and sneezing and scratching in that tight space. Fomites and moisture droplets are getting sprayed everywhere constantly: the seats, the carpets, the tray tables, the armrests, the seat belts- not just the things you think you can avoid touching. Even worse, there are plenty of substances for those droplets and particles to cling to: many is the time I've sat at a window seat to be grossed out by the greasy haze left by a previous passenger who slept with their head against the window and thought to myself what kind of petri dish must the interior panels on this aircraft be? Whatever gets drawn into the HEPA filters is going to be trapped there, but I think its a safe bet that most of the particles and droplets stay anchored to whatever surface they land on.

There is an urban legend that airlines routinely dial down the amount of fresh air that is drawn into cabins to save fuel and this has been debunked- the ratio of fresh to recirculated air on a plane is basically factory-set and cannot be adjusted inflight and there is rarely any prescribed reason for ground mechanical personnel to change it either- slow-onset hypoxia will kill a person before they realize what is happening, so this is a bit more serious than saving a few bucks on fuel. The moisture content of cabin air, on the other hand, is something that can be altered. Airlines are so loath to do anything about it due to the cost of retrofitting humidification systems to planes as well as the cost in fuel and space of hauling a tank of heavy water aloft that it isn't even being considered in the realm of possibility. Picture that tiny 50-seat Canadair CRJ-200 once again, which on a good day gives you about as much personal space as you might have in the back seat of a fully loaded car, and ask yourself where and how we might retrofit this aircraft for improved cabin air quality. The answer is simple: the days of traveling like this are over. Planes like the CRJ-200 are flying bio-exposure labs- you won’t share more of your fellow passengers’ bodily materials without having a one-night stand with each of them.

Beyond misleading people about irrelevant cabin air quality, what are the airlines going to do to keep passengers safe? They will block off the middle seats on planes, but this accomplishes exactly nothing except to make passengers a little more comfortable (and to this extent I applaud it). They will make you wear a mask- and this is a good thing, but only until you take that mask off to have a drink or eat something, which you are welcome to try to avoid doing on an 8-10 hour flight. Despite this reality, I fully expect anyone who isn’t able to abstain from eating or drinking for the duration of the flight to be cuffed and stuffed upon arrival. They might end up blood testing passengers or requiring health documentation to fly, and frankly, these seemingly drastic measures might be the only hope for air travel. Expect the cost of the test or certifying yourself to be a new ticket tax, because, well its not like you gave them $25 billion or anything like that, right? If you are expecting things like planes getting sanitized between flights or even cheap yet thoughtful things like a personal bottle of sanitizer and a mask at your seat so that even people who have been unexpectedly separated from their luggage have the appropriate supplies, forget about it: they can't even figure out how to afford to give you three ounces of peanuts. Rest assured that despite whatever risk their practices introduce for you, the airlines intend to make you fully responsible for any bit of nastiness you might be exposed to on board.

I am not a germophobe and I accept reality: I am not going to say that you should hop on a train for your next hygienic travel experience. Are you more socially distanced in a sleeping car compartment than on an airliner? Yes, but only somewhat, and if you're traveling in coach its basically the same as flying from that perspective. Obviously, the safest way for most people to travel intercity during a pandemic is via automobile, as long as you are careful and have the right supplies (having your own car makes this much easier though). Unfortunately, you're not going to be able to hop in the family truckster for a trip from Miami to London. I haven't been able to find any information on the moisture content of passenger train air either, but I am pretty sure its very different from an airliner since railroad car ventilation systems are not subject to the same mechanical constraints. I have personal experience to back this up: I have spent weeks crisscrossing North America and Europe on trains and have never experienced such a thing as an "Amtrak cold" or an "Amtrak flu." Considering the challenges associated with maintaining cleanliness on a train making a fifty hour journey, that says a lot. As far as cleaning supplies or masks go, well, people who take Amtrak cross country have been bringing family-size spray cans of Lysol on board since the 1980s- nobody with experience would leave home without one.

[yodawgiherd]

EM White Day -2 : Flowers/Sneaking Out

I know its technically late, but i do hope that i will be forgiven.

You guys wanted a continuation and I (almost) always listen to the comments, cause they make me feel validated. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ So here you go. Enjoy!

There was a sound coming from the window. And another one. And one right after. Not understanding what the hell was going on, Mikasa sat up on the bed, annoyed, putting down the book she was reading to try and investigate. Was it raining outside? But her theory got debunked as soon as she neared the glass, because a small rock landed square in the middle, bouncing off with the same annoying sound she kept hearing. Well, mystery solved. Not raining, just some dumbass throwing pebbles at her window. Swearing to whatever dark god was listening that if she opens and gets hit by a piece of gravel, she will literally climb down the tree and kick the hooligan’s ass, Mikasa clicked the latch and leaned out, squinting into the darkness. It was pretty damn late.

“Miki! Hey, Mikasa, down here!”

If she could pick one person in the whole world that would throw rocks at her house after midnight, it would most likely be her dorky boyfriend. And, lo and behold, the guess would be correct.

“Eren!”, she hissed down, “What the hell are you doing?”

“Waking you up.”

Even in the dark, she could almost see the smug smile on his face.

“I wasn’t sleeping you ass. What do you want?”

The smile only widened.

“Come down and I’ll tell you.”

Theoretically, she could say no, close the window and go back to the book. Then again, theories didn’t stand well when faced with reality, and while Eren’s plans could range from goofy to straight up illegal, they were always fun. But she wouldn’t make it that easy on him, especially not after he so rudely interrupted her reading. Mikasa was just getting to the juicy part, damn it.

“You do realize that your rock assault could have woken my parents, or much worse, my brother up.”

Down below, Eren shrugged.

“So what?”

“Playing the tough guy now, huh?”, leaning on the windowsill, Mikasa went on, “I do remember that the last time he almost walked in on us, you basically had a heart attack.”

“Let me remind you that he’s a marine, is insanely overprotective of you, and he was just about to catch me with my hand down his little sister’s pants. Literally.”

“I don’t need reminding, I was there.”

Oh, teasing was fun, but Eren didn’t have the time to just stand there and listen to Mikasa pulling out all the embarrassing moments she had on him. With the sheer amount of them, they could very well spend the whole night like this, and that just wouldn’t do.

“Listen babe, you can sit on that sill the whole night, smirking down at me, or you can get your ass down here, and let me show you why I even bothered coming in the first place.”

Weighing the pros and cons, Mikasa decided to just dump the logic and follow Eren’s call, as it was sometimes needed in their relationship. He wasn’t very good at explaining things, but his plans worked out. Well, most of the time. So, she climbed out, getting a firm hold on the tree and slid down, jumping the last few feet to land in front of her boyfriend, dusting herself off. On his part, all Eren could do was stand and stare, because no matter how many times he saw her do this, the grace she displayed while doing such a mundane task as climbing down a tree was amazing.

“Cat got your tongue?”, she asked, not yet abandoning her teasing tone.

“I don’t know.”, with a smirk, Eren put his hands around her waist, pulling her flush against him, “Wanna check if I still have it?”

Giggling, Mikasa accepted the offered kiss, and she made extra sure to double check if his tongue was still intact. It would be damn shame to lose it, especially when he could use it so well during kissing and…well, other intimate activities.

“Was your grand plan just standing here and making out?”, she asked after a few minutes, when Eren didn’t seem to have any intention of going anywhere. And while this was nice and all, she didn’t see the point of going out for this, couldn’t he just climb up into her room as he usually did?

“Erm, no, of course not.”, reluctantly letting go of her, Eren took a step back, breathing in the cold night air to calm himself down. They were dating for like what, three months, but still, every time they kissed his whole mind just went completely blank. This is how it must feel to chew a 5 gum™.

“Come on, let’s go.”

With that, he took her hand in his and together they started walking, hopefully to where Eren wanted them to be. Mikasa loved the guy, but his sense of direction was pretty terrible.

“So where are we going?”, she queried, but all Eren did was grin.

“Wait and see.”

With nothing better to do, Mikasa allowed herself to be led, watching as they passed different houses and roads, getting closer to their goal. Just as she was about to try tickling the plan out of Eren, he stopped, apparently very satisfied with himself.

“We are here.”

But where was here? Upon closer inspection, Mikasa deduced that this must be some kind of garden, judging from the flower beds she could see through the bars, and the trees that loomed all around them. Curiosity sated, a new question arose.

“How do we get in?”

“Oh right….”, hopeful, Eren checked the gate, but he would be lying if he said that he was surprised to find it locked. Damn, he never thought about this. Putting on a brave face, he turned towards his smirking girlfriend, shrugging. “We climb over, what else?”

“Fine.”

Before he could offer his help to the lady, as it’s expected, Mikasa approached the metal, and with a rustle of clothing and few quick moves, she was on the other side, blinking at Eren through the barrier.

“You coming?”

Shaking his head, he followed, with a lot more grunting and much slower, but in the end managed to cross, straightening to see that Mikasa was already ahead, inspecting the flowers.

“It’s pretty here.”, she informed him when he joined her, “How did you find out about this place?”

“Mom works here.”, taking her hand in his again, he gently tugged at it to get Mikasa to follow, leading her to the place he saw earlier. Hopefully it was still there.

It was. A patch of grass surrounded by rose bushes, all the colors she could dream of. Red, white, yellow, even some black ones, peeking from the green.

“Oh my god, it’s beautiful.”, coming closer, Mikasa leaned in to see better, an expression of childlike wonder on her face. And Eren couldn’t help but feel relieved. Jackpot. To be honest, he did feel a bit anxious, because Mikasa didn’t seem much like a flower type of a girl, but he took a slight gamble and won. Watching her, fascinated by the beauty of the roses, Eren was very glad that he risked it. Just seeing the way she looked, surrounded by the flowers, made it completely worth it.

When Mikasa wanted to take a breather, and they sat together on the grass, Eren was quick to offer his lap for her to rest her head in, and offer she accepted readily. With the weather being nice for once, the ground was reasonably dry and pleasantly warm, allowing her to lie down without the fear of catching a cold.

“You know, I was half thinking that you drew me out just to have sex somewhere public again.”, she spoke into the night, shuffling on the ground to be a bit more comfortable.

Originally, that was the other part of his plan, but with her so peacefully resting, it would be rude to try and rouse her just to get some. Well, this felt nice too, not going to lie. Sort of.

“What do you think I am, some kind of a pervert?”

Mikasa just snorted, choosing not to answer. Silence stretched above them like a blanket, with the stars providing just enough light to paint the scene in an intimate glow, as Eren dragged his fingers through her hair, gently. The color of her locks was so similar to the inky midnight sky, he was just about to comment on that, but Mikasa spoke first, not giving him the chance to.

“Eren,”, she asked, suddenly serious for a change, “do you think that we are going to make it?”

If he could see the future, he would tell her. About all the ups and downs their relationship will have through the rest of the high school and college, how they will almost break up over a stupid misunderstanding but return to each other just two days after the incident, the separation too painful to bear. How stressful it will be the first year after school, them almost never having time to spend it together, their jobs too demanding, so they will leave notes for each other on the fridge, always ending them with a little heart. How beautiful she will look at their wedding, the stunning visage forever burned into his brain, the happiest day of his life. How her first pregnancy will be completely unplanned, and she will spend a week at Sasha’s unsure of what to do, lying long hours in the bed, hands pressed against her stomach with tears streaming down her face until she will have no more left. Eren would tell her all about the fear that he felt, during the later stages of her pregnancy, jumping at shadows when he deemed them even a little bit dangerous to his wife. How their first child, a daughter, will help Armin through his depression, shining light into his world that seemed like nothing but darkness to him. How Mikasa will handle her next children with stoic calmness, already knowing what to expect, but he will still stress himself, endlessly fuzzing over her, making sure that Mikasa has everything she needs. And that, a lifetime later, he will press a kiss to her hair, streaked with gray, and murmur “We made it.”, making her laugh and swat his shoulder playfully, while their grandkids all around them will loudly demand their attention.

Alas, Eren was no oracle, so all he did was shrug, smoothing the strands of hair behind Mikasa’s ears.

“I don’t know.”, he replied, “But when you are with me, nothing is impossible.”

And for now, that was more than enough for them.

[wordstrings]

Of Maintenance Part 2: Physical Therapy

Written and submitted by @ask-flip-frost​; a sequel to Of Maintenance. (Publisher’s notes can be found at the end of the work.) Words: 4,300

Things were changing. Whether they were more spooky or less spooky with the developing knowledge was difficult to say, though. Several everyday phenomena which Sam and Dean had taken to be the result of Castiel’s telekinetic abilities had been debunked as something far more simple. In the week since his medicinal bath, the grace-touch Cas had granted to the Winchester’s eyes had not faded out. His wings were still visible to them. As such, they began to notice all manner of peculiar things.

For starters, Castiel was not nearly as statuesque as they’d always perceived him to be. Even if the rest of his body seemed to be standing perfectly still, his wings gave away that he was, in fact, constantly fidgeting. Often it was only a gentle twitch or sway, but other times it would be the sort of swift flap one might see from a bird debating its position on a branch as the angel settled onto the living area’s couch. The first time that happened had scared the hell out of Dean and he’d fallen onto the floor with a loud curse. Out of courtesy, the brothers would give a wider berth now to accommodate the limbs, though the wings would always shift themselves to or fro as needed regardless as they always had ‘behind the scenes’.

“I am beginning to understand why Humans are uncomfortable with long stares.” Castiel commented as he picked a lore book from a high shelf in a pincer motion with the alula of either wing.

Dean started in place. He hadn’t realized that he’d been staring again. He grunted quietly and went back to fake-reading for a case. Well, ‘case’ in the sense that it wasn’t really their sort of thing, but they were bored out of their minds. Idle hands being tools of the devil, he could definitely understand how so many bad decisions came in moments where a person was left with nothing to drown out melancholy thoughts. Might as well research old serial killers and have debates on whether or not they were supernaturally inclined.

“I always thought you did that with your brain, I dunno. Some floaty angel shit.” Dean shrugged, dropping both the pretense and his book “Still getting used to it.”

“I use my brain to move my wings.” Castiel rolled his eyes, thumbing through his volume. “I could lift something by altering the molecular structure of the air around it, but it seems like wasted effort.”

With Cas’ attention divided by reading, the elder Winchester felt as if he could chance another appraising look at the wings. This time, he was moreso checking on their healing progress. Any time he’d gotten close enough to attempt to give them a once-over, they’d folded up protectively against the angel’s back. The skin certainly seemed healthier. Feathers were coming in nicely. A marked rise in Castiel’s mood might have been linked to their recovery.

“Dean.” Cas admonished.

“What?”

Cas turned to face him straight on, irritated as fully as a woman who didn’t want someone ogling her legs. He closed the distance and waited until Dean met his eyes. It took more than a few seconds.

“Alright, I get it, I get it. I wouldn’t have to be so damn sneaky about it if you’d let us actually check them. We said we wanted to help, and you promised you’d let us.” Dean fussed. “It’s been a week, and all you’re doing is just… misting them like house plants with that oil stuff. I wanted to make sure they’re getting better. Sue me.”

“…Oh,”

“Whaddaya mean oh?”

All this time, Castiel had felt that he was being viewed as somewhat of a side-show. The extra space given, the hidden peeks, and the badgering about keeping up on moisturizing the damaged skin had been giving him mixed signals on whether or not he was being treated as… well, he wasn’t sure. But he didn’t like it. He dropped his eyes, embarrassed.

“I misunderstood the reason for your leering.” Cas admitted quietly.

“Leering? Who’s leering?” Dean demanded, slapping the table to get full attention when Cas glanced away. “No, you look at me. If you think for a minute that we’re just gawking for the sake of seeing something weird, then you really need to get your head out of your ass, Cas. We stare because we care.”

That didn’t sound creepy. Ah, shit, he’d rhymed as well.

Castiel gave a begrudged nod. While he didn’t particularly care for being scolded like a child, he would be remiss to ignore the small flutter of importance that had bloomed in his chest from it. Something he’d perceived to be bordering on hateful was actually just the Winchesters’ way of looking after him without being obvious about it.

Feeling that his point had been made, Dean pushed up from the table and pointed an accusing finger as he backed out of the library.

“Alright. I’m going to pick Sammy up and grab some grub. When I get back, you’re getting a full check-up. No buts.”

If Castiel had been properly miffed, it would have been as easy as leaving before Dean returned to avoid further possibility of ridicule. But he stayed. Heaven help him, he stayed.

–

When the door to the bunker swung open by way of an aggressive hip, Castiel looked up briefly from his book and gave both Winchesters an expression of acknowledgement. Sam had been out all day, but where he had no idea. Both Sam and Dean had their arms full of takeout and grocery bags, though it seemed unlikely that the younger brother had been shopping for the last seven hours.

Behind Cas, there was some sort of structured movement going on. It reminded Sam of some upper body calisthenics demonstrated in a documentary about Victorian housewives he’d watched in college; the kind of exercise that only worked a set group of muscles, as was appropriate for ladies at the time. Not that he’d say that out loud. It looked a bit silly, though.

“The hell are you doing?” Dean asked bluntly.

“Stretching.” Cas didn’t look up a second time.

“Are you sore?” Sam prompted.

“No more than usual.” the angel replied with a sigh.

“How usual is usual?” Sam pressed on.

Castiel closed his book and deposited it on a table.

“Your legs are long.” Cas stated, waiting for Sam to agree to this observation before continuing. “If you are in a car for a long period of time, they become cramped, correct? Imagine if you were over one thousand feet tall, and compressed to a vessel that does not even clear six feet. Sometimes it helps to stretch, if only a little.”

It was easy to forget how big Castiel was supposed to be in a natural state when he was forever looking up at them. They understood how dangerous it would be for the angel to leave the vessel empty for any amount of time, so taking a break somewhere to fully unleash himself was unlikely to work out well.

“Okay, well-“ Sam yanked Dean’s shirt to prevent him waltzing away from putting groceries up. “We’ve been thinking about that a little, actually. Dean’s been calling physical therapy clinics in the area to get advice on what we can do to make things better for you.”

“Sneaking.” Dean interjected.

“-And I went to the vet clinic to volunteer with a bird rehabilitation group today. So I think we’ll have a better idea on how to handle helping you along.” Sam continued. “Got a few things we can try, but we’ll see how it goes and kind of play it by ear.”

At a loss for words, Castiel blinked and looked from one brother to the other. His don’t bother worrying about me, I am not worth it train of thought was solidly arguing with his I am deeply humbled and thankful to be cared about train of thought.

“The therapists all told us to check range of motion and try to balance resistance exercises and stretches with massages to release tension in the muscles.” Dean explained, slapping Cas on the shoulder. “Who’s a lucky duck?”

Cas pulled a grumpled expression as Dean turned back to stack cans of sloppy joe sauce in the cabinet.

“I am not a duck.” he huffed.

“Ya might as well be. That’s all Sammy’s been practicing on all day.” Dean laughed. “You’ll be the first on his client list not to peck at him. Or maybe you will, I dunno. You were pretty twitchy last time we had hands on you, so~”

Eyes to the ceiling, Castiel asked his Father for whatever strength he needed not to stuff Dean into a garbage can. He was thankful that the teasing was not further pursued while the remaining groceries were sorted. The time was spent going over what each brother had learned in their separate endeavors. He learned that Sam had been followed by an entire flock of some forty-odd ducks when it was time for him to leave, and that Dean had been given love letters by three old women and one old man after a day of working in senior physical therapy earlier in the week. As a point of pride, he’d kept all of them like trophies.

“Here, these are for you.” Sam tugged a pack of jersey knit pajama pants out of the last bag and passed them over to Cas. “So you don’t have to borrow any. Go ahead and change. There’s a shirt, too, but we need it off for now so we can see what we’re doing.”

Castiel ran his hand over the plastic with a quiet thank you. It crinkled softly in his fingers. Technically speaking, he didn’t own a single article of clothing besides what was already on his person. Any that he’d worn during his period as a human had been discarded as a means to bury the memory of his many struggles. Those clothes had all been second-hand anyway, though. These were new, expressly for him. A touching gesture to say the least.

This time, he didn’t feel nearly as self-conscious changing out of his normal attire. For a long moment, he fiddled with the drawstrings of his trousers to ensure that they were perfectly fit before tying a messy knot. Something which looked only sort of like a bow, but it was good enough. Learning to tie his shoes during his humanity stint had been quite a journey, but a small child who’d wandered off from her mother in the mall had been kind enough to show him as best she could manage. The things you needed to know as an ‘adult’ were hardly ever clear until you were in the moment, he’d come to find.

When Cas returned, he saw that a table in the library had been fixed up with lots of folded blankets to create a padded surface. Not strictly necessary, but it was nice to see all the same. A groaning sigh dramatic enough to rival a Kansas twister whooshed from his lungs in pure disapproval as Dean sauntered in wearing a lab coat, carrying a clip board.

“What?” Dean scoffed. “Too much?”

“YEAH.” came the unison reply.

“Fine. Buncha killjoys.” Dean muttered, shrugging out of the coat and tossing it in a rumpled pile on a chair. “Up on the table, big guy. Stretch out the wings as far as they’ll go side to side. Don’t let them droop if you can help it. We need to see if any of your muscles have atrophied.”

One foot pressed to a chair, Castiel pushed up on the table and settled into a comfortable sitting position, legs dangled somewhat stiffly over the side. A few small pops worked in the joints as he slowly reached his wings out in a wide t-shape. He wasn’t all together sure if that was a problem in the vessel’s shoulders or in his actual wings. Later he would run a checklist of all of the organic components which didn’t strictly belong to him. Well. They did now, he supposed.

“Try making circles, then go up and down.” Sam frowned at the noise, flipping through a little field guide he’d been given that day. “Does it hurt?”

“No,” Cas shook his head, complying with the request easily. “It’s a relief. Everything has felt a little-“

“Flabby?” Dean supplied brightly. “Since you haven’t been able to go out for a sky spin in forever?”

If looks could kill.

“…tight. I have been exercising them, but the stiffness remains.” Cas grumbled. “My wing muscles are not flabby.”

“Touched a nerve on that one.” Dean huffed under his breath, eyebrows jumped up.

Quick to diffuse, Sam cleared his throat.

“You need recovery days to let muscles rest. Even if you’ve never needed them before, you’ve also never really been in a vessel for this long, right? Celestial energy verses physically shrunk down has got to have differences in how your wings react to things, especially after trauma. You said it feels cramped and tight, so let’s work from there. I’ll apply pressure. Try to keep from lowering your wings.” Sam advised, taking up a position behind the brooding angel.

Slowly he pushed down, little by little adding more force. The wings didn’t move an inch. They were warm and solid. A far cry less ashy-looking than the last time he’d touched them as well. Resistance didn’t seem to be a problem. There was no tremble of fatigue, but the muscles were heavily bunched.

“Not flabby.” Sam confirmed, noting with amusement how Cas’ feathers puffed a little in pride.

“See?” Cas sniffed in a superior tone.

“Got it.” Dean rolled his eyes.

“It was easy.” Cas added.

“I got it.” Dean repeated.

“Like they were baby hands.”

“Got it, Cas. Not flabby.”

Sam looked down at his giant paws and mouthed baby hands before reaching into a small box on the table. He began carefully laying out a collection of wires and pads. When he caught Castiel looking curiously over his shoulder, he held up the box to show a picture. The edges of the cardboard were slightly dog-eared from age, but the contents had been kept in pristine condition.

“TENS unit,” Sam explained. “I do long distance runs, and sometimes when my muscles get overworked, this helps kill off the pain and kind of forces them to relax after you use it. It stimulates your nerves with electricity pulses.”

When he was met with a wary expression, Sam rolled up his own sleeve and stuck two of the leads to his forearm. He fiddled with the settings and clicked the machine to life. Small twitches in his muscles were apparent.

“See? It’s fine. Doesn’t hurt. It’s weird, but DeanDeanDeanDON’T- AH!”

Unable to help himself, Dean plucked up the unit and cranked the dial WAY up, chuckling deeply as Sam’s arm convulsed into weird positons.

“This thing is WILD, Cas. We used to play a drinking game with these where you try to balance a ping pong ball on a spoon while it’s buzzing you, and if you dropped it, you had to take a shot.” Dean smirked, shutting the machine off, to Sam’s relief. “So just so you’re prepared, if it jerks you around a little, it’s fine. Doesn’t hurt, there are just places it isn’t safe to go, like around your heart. If Sammy can take it, you can take it. If it gets too sore, let us know and we’ll shut it down. Sound good?”

Cas nodded, actually a little relieved at the show of absurdity. It made him feel less like a specimen. There were no further protests as Sam began attaching leads to the meatiest sections of his wings and one on each shoulder blade at the joint. Anywhere where the knots were especially tight. The stickiness of the pads felt strange, but not particularly uncomfortable.

“You good?” Dean asked.

“Yes,” the angel replied, bracing his hands on the edge of the table.

“I figure we’ll let this run for a little while, then we’ll massage out the rest of those tense spots manually. You can go for a soak after. It’ll be a good day.” Dean promised.

“I’ll go get some of the leftover oil.” Sam offered. “Unless you already got some lotion or something for today?”

Dean thought to the small bottle of Jergens in his room… in a box… with his questionable reading material. The only lotion he owned.

“Nope,” the older Winchester lied.

“Right. Uh. Hang on, I’ll be right back.”

The last thing Dean wanted was to endure something overly floral for this very manly process, so he turned to follow at his brother’s heels to micromanage the scent choices.

“Dean-“ Castiel interrupted his departure. “I’m sorry.”

“…For what?” Dean squinted.

“Earlier today. I thought… I thought you were being condescending. I’m sorry for being upset.”

Dean’s face went a little slack with guilt. Cas shouldn’t have to apologize for feeling upset. He spent so much of his time self-loathing already. All members of Team Free Will had a certain lack of communication skills when it came to sensitive topics, and Dean wasn’t exactly the most emotionally mature person when his pride was stinging.

“Yeah, well. Forget it, okay? I wasn’t exactly being up front about stuff.” Dean shrugged, looking for immediate escape from a dissection of character. “Be right back. Stay put.”

Now, the wisest course of action would have been for Castiel to wait patiently for the brothers to return, but frankly, he wanted to know what he was in for so that he would be able to adjust his reactions accordingly. If he could anticipate the jolts, then perhaps he could work against them to avoid looking quite as ridiculous as Sam had. Blue eyes kept sliding from the TENS unit to the door and back again. The oils were kept in the recovery room with all of the tubs, so he’d have at least two or three minutes to himself. Sam and Dean were strollers if there wasn’t a need for hurry. Ever so slowly, he reached out and closed a hand over the little machine.

–

“What’s wrong with lavender?” Sam groaned.

“It stinks, Sam. Use the sandalwood.”

“THAT stinks!”

“Bitch.”

“Jerk.”

After much grumbling, they finally decided on eucalyptus, if only because Cas had mentioned that he’d liked the scent previously. This was about him after all. Before starting back to the library, they begrudgingly claimed a truce to avoid making the angel any more uncomfortable with sibling bickering. That was when both brothers were startled by flickering lights.

“Cas.” Dean stated, breaking into a run.

The door banged open.

Down on the floor, curled into a twitching ball against the table, was Castiel… doing something they’d only witnessed once before. The poor fellow was laughing, deep and rich and panicked. There was something else mixed with the sound; something almost musical and very, very strange. It made the humans go slightly cross-eyed for a second. They rubbed their faces hard to correct this. At least their ears weren’t screaming in pain.

“OFF!” Cas choked out.

Electricity was buzzing straight through his muscles down into his very grace. It wasn’t only that the unit gave off a tingling pulse over various sensitive points in his wings and shoulders. That would have been bad enough, especially the patches jolting into his wing pits. No, this was something altogether unbearable. Castiel hadn’t even been aware that his very essence of being was capable of falling subject to these sorts of sensations, but save him it tickled and tickled and tickled relentlessly. The entire world was blurred at the edges and all he knew was a crazed swirling of mirth and chaos exploding through his core. It was everywhere, inside and out.

“Hold on, hold on…” Dean tried, though it was doubtful that Cas could even hear him through the forced giggling and weird melodic notes.

Trying to get close enough to Castiel to snatch the machine up was like running a gauntlet. His wings were suffering from a combination of tickle shimmies and electric pulse muscle spasms. Any time Sam or Dean ducked in to make a grab, they were pummeled by a wall of feathers. Dean could taste blood after a clock to his nose, but adrenaline and amusement kept him from noticing more than a vague sting.

“Cas… Cas we can’t… you’ve gotta…” Dean weaved and batted.

“Work with us, Cas!” Sam grunted, hanging onto one wing for dear life as it thrashed him up and down as if he weighed nothing.

“T-t-t!!!” Cas tried to form words through his laughter, arms clutched tight around his middle.

Desperation incarnate, he reached out lightning quick with the miniscule amount of grace able to bend to his will and yanked the boys in close with it. This had the unfortunate side effect of spreading the sensation as the essence touched down on them, leaving both Winchesters doubled up in helpless wheezing cackles against their angelic friend. What the hell was this non-physical tickly feeling???

“CAS D-!!! CAN’T HE-HELP IF?!” Dean snorted.

They were screwed. Caught in the loop of laughter. What a way to go out.

Until…

It seemed that the reapers would not be coming for them on that particular day. Whether from divine intervention or dumb luck, the device shut off. A collective gasp for air sounded through the room.

“Shit… that tickled.” Dean heaved. “What happened?”

“It would seem that my grace is… vulnerable to electric stimulation.” Castiel rolled onto his back and put a hand over his face in a mixture of relief and embarrassment.

Nobody moved. There was a strange afterglow of sheer contentment from the shared-grace-giggling experience, though nobody was quick to admit how good they felt at the moment.

“Timer.” Sam stated finally. “I have a default timer of five minutes on it. That’s why it shut off.”

“Yeah, well, we’re gonna have to turn the settings WAY down on that thing because I don’t think I can handle that again right now if Wiggles over here gets grabby with his grace.” Dean rolled up into a sit and started aligning the intensity controls.

Cas made an instinctive reach for the device, which Dean deftly avoided.

“Not our fault you turned it on when it was set high. We’re still doing this, but we’re doing it right. Lower pulse ought to be fine. Back up on the table.”

Wide eyed and nervous, Castiel resumed his original position. He was still just a little too drunk on the endorphin spike to pull an annoyed expression, but still swiftly gripped a wrist on each brother.

“Don’t leave this time.” he insisted.

Sam and Dean shared a look, then jumped up to sit on either side of him. When he gave a small nod to signal his mental steel-up, the TENS unit once again buzzed to life, this time at a far more tolerable frequency. Only just, but tolerable all the same. His grace gave out pulsing shivers, almost as if nails were running over sensitized skin.

Hands balled in the padding blankets and legs lightly squirming for purchase over the side of the table, Castiel tried his best to bear through the time. He dug his chin down into his collar bone as breathy giggles clawed their way to the surface. Nope. A grown man-angel shouldn’t be allowed to be this adorable.

“This is supposed to be relaxing. Are you relaxed?” Dean grinned, giving a little poke to one of the wiggling wings.

“I AM NO-HOT!”

Sam held back a snort to avoid embarrassing the angel, but threw Dean a can you believe this expression when Cas tipped to his side and pressed muffled laughter into his jacket sleeve. Both brothers held a supportive hand to the angel’s back.

“Cas, we’d better not catch you alone like this again in your free time. If we need you for a case and you’re just holed up under the table having a tickle party for one-”

“Be quiet, De-hean!” Cas interrupted him with a giggly shove from the closest wing. “I’ll make you… I’ll make you feel…”

It was hardly an intimidating threat at the moment. The teasing verbal jabs seemed to up the intensity of whatever was happening with the celestial energy, and Castiel’s eyes were shining bright with tears by the time the machine beeped to signal the end of its cycle.

“Finished.” Sam announced in a sympathetic tone.

“Already?” Cas asked, wiping away the evidence of his mirth crying.

“Already?” Dean repeated, amused.

“It seemed to go by much faster. Perhaps, time being relative and also being that the potency of the treatment was at a marked decrease, my tolerance was raised for the challenge. It was pleasant. The effect on my grace was thoroughly enjoyable.” Castiel acknowledged, squinting at the Winchesters’ surprised expressions. “Did I not elucidate this well enough?”

Carefully, he stretched out his wings, noting with satisfaction that they felt remarkably limber as compared to the prickly tightness from the beginning of the day. He gave a soft yelp when fingers began picking at the TENS pads to unstick them from his skin. A bit over-sensitive from prolonged tingles, it was a struggle to wrench his wings up to allow the leads to be peeled away from the joints at his shoulder blades. They snapped down repeatedly and he shook his head with a scrunched nose of valiant failed effort. It wasn’t until Dean reached out a tickly grab to Cas’ knee to redirect sensation that he buckled in and became uncoordinated enough for Sam to strip everything free.

When everything had been boxed back up, it was difficult to ignore that Castiel’s expression remained bright and pleased. He looked happy. With any luck, maybe in the future that would not feel like such a foreign thing to see.

———

Publisher’s Notes: I absolutely LOVED getting to toss around ideas with you, some of which ended up straight here! This is so precious, and the line “...if Wiggles over here gets grabby with his grace” is a particular treasure. Thank you so much for blessing us with this continuation! <3

[bluemoonpunch]

So the Mandela Effect, thoughts?

I think it’s a legit thing, but so much bullshit has been added into it that really drowns out the legitimacy of it. Like a lot of the Mandela Effect things I’ve heard from people have more to do with them mishearing something as a child and then growing up to realize that they’ve been saying something wrong. Like I’ve always called nail polish “paint nail polish” and didn’t realize that no one else around me did until I was 14 and my aunt pointed it out. Some people would try to say that that was a Mandela Effect, that I was once part of a separate universe where nail polish was collectively referred to as “paint nail polish,” but really I’m just a dork who got used to calling it that because no one corrected me.

Like I saw a Mandela Effect thread once about Tostitos and people saying that when they were young the Tostitos chips were called Totinos… but like… Totino's is a different thing. Totino's is like the pizza bagels and the pizza rolls, Tostitos is the tortilla chips and salsa/dips. They both exist, but if you’re a kid and your parents are getting you Totino's pizza rolls (very popular in the 90′s and early 2000′s as I recall) and around the same time Tostitos was popping off as a party essential, something you’re not too into when you’re like 5 - 9 years old, then you might hear it and get it switched around. It’s just slightly off so other people might not even notice that you’re mixing them up especially if you’re saying “Tostitos pizza rolls” rather than “Totino's pizza rolls” because most people are going to know what you’re talking about and might not even catch it. Same as me saying “paint nail polish” rather than just “nail polish” It’s just one extra syllable I’m throwing in there and technically what I’m saying is not wrong, it’s just slightly off. 

So, when it comes to weird little random things I don’t believe it to be a Mandela Effect, I think it’s just people remembering and saying shit wrong as a child and then not wanting to consider that they’re wrong as an adult. Like… it’s easier and maybe more fun to say that I was once in a separate universe where Totino's pizza rolls were actually Tostitos pizza rolls rather than just saying I ate pizza rolls way more than I ate tortilla chips and just got them confused because they were both popular foods and I got them mixed up. 

99% of Mandela Effects I feel can be debunked pretty easily by just… spell checking something lol, but shit like THE ACTUAL MANDELA EFFECT where massive amounts of people remember Nelson Mandela dying a long time ago both inside and outside of his country is very interesting. A lot of people claim to have very detailed memories of him dying in prison and those recollections match up with other people’s, so that’s interesting but again, it can be debunked as well I think.

The Mandela Effect was a very American thing, a lot of the popular ones are based around American history and what not. I always thought the reason people thought Mandela died a long time ago was that he was part of our history lessons when it came to the Civil Rights movements. He was not an American activist, but we learned about him right next to Martin Luther King and Malcolm X, two very prominent black men who were part of the Civil Rights movement in the US in the 60′s. They were both killed in the mid to late 60′s, so if you’re like 12 and you’re not really paying attention and you’re learning about three significant black men in the 60′s and you’re just kind of getting a sprinkling of Nelson Mandela in there, you might assume he was dead too, that he was assassinated along with Martin Luther King  and Malcolm X.

Even though Nelson Mandela was (and is) a huge historical figure, a lot of his work, of course, is centered in South Africa and therefore people elsewhere who aren’t really paying attention, such as people that are are tiny children in 1990 when he was released from prison, you might supplement that information into “Nelson Mandela died in prison in 1990.” You already think he’s dead so having information about him being released from prison when you’re still a small child or when you’re just an American who doesn’t really care that much about what’s going on in South Africa, you can mix things up and just believe them to be true.

American’s were very detached from political occurances in other countries, especially places that don’t really pop up on the radar like South Africa, so again, to the average person what he was doing, even when he became president, a good majority just didn’t care. The name was familiar but not many people realy stopped to pay attention until he actually died and the whole world paid attention to this huge historical figure passing away. Then all of the sudden people (mostly Americans) were like, “I thought he died a long time ago.” And then boom, Mandela Effect. And of course, herd mentality kind of pulls other people along. They’ll hear something like that and not be sure either way but will be more ikely to go along with the side that seems to have a more compelling case. You have like 20 people sayig it’s a split in the Universe and 5 people saying it’s just you being an idiot and not knowing history, and then 15 other people just not giving a shit, you’re more likely to hang out with the 20 other people who talk a lot and don’t point out that you’re just wrong about something.

Even with things like that that are older than the Mandela Effect like the Berenstain/Berenstein Bears thing, it’s the same. “The Berenstain Bears” logo thing on all the books was written in a cursive font, something that the children in that age range probably couldn’t read. Not only that, everyone I know always pronounced it “Bare-en-steen” never “Bare-en-stain” which is what the actual spelling would make most people say. So, “mispronunciation” mixed with the inability to actually make out the letters on the cover, and then hearing it be pronounced as “Bare-en-steen” all the time it can be quite mind blowing to realize that it’s spelled in a way that would give the pronunciation “bare-en-stain.” 

So again, it’s mostly CHILDREN mishearing and mispronouncing something a lot and never being corrected because it’s really not that big of a deal or because the mistake is so small that no one really notices it, and then growing up and noticing that mistake themselves and having their world crash down around them because they’ve been living a lie and the only logical explanation is not that they were simply saying it wrong but that… they… were once in a different reality where they were right. 

Like, in my mind, EVERYONE said “paint nail polish” not “nail polish” because my brain would just automatically switch it out, kind of like a bilingual person automatically translating something in their head into their secondary language. EVERYONE was actually saying “nail polish” always, no one but me was saying “paint nail polish” but I was “translating” it to fit my “language” or what I was aready familiar with. Just like if you’re used to saying “Bare-en-steen” you’re always going to translate it to that even if someone says “Bare-en-stain” because that’s the pattern of sounds your brain liked best. 

I think the Mandela Effect can definitely be thing, but a lot of the ones that I’m familiar with can be debunked in this manner, especially on massive scales like that. 

[nealcassatiel]

Is my fanfic criteria too specific or am I failing at using Ao3?

Hi all, this is gonna be half me asking for recommendations, and half me wondering if my fanfic criteria is too specific?

I’m wondering if this is the case because I’m shocked at how few fanfics on ao3 meet my preferred criteria. I am shocked because I assumed that there would be way way more works which aligned with my own tastes. Here were the criteria I used to search on the site;

- Explicit

- Dean/Castiel

- Canon Universe

68 fics were listed however only 13 actually met this criteria. 

My own extra personal criteria are that the fic doesn’t include daddy!kinks or non-con (no shaming, just not what I personally want to read). Furthermore, the fics must have a plot. Once I subtracted fics which had these I was left with 9 fics. 6 of these 9 were under 9,000 words (and I was really searching for a long fic, which I consider to be over 9,000 i.e. over three chapters). So I was left with only three fics, one of which was my own. Essentially, I could only find two fanfics that met my ‘I want to really read this’ criteria

Overall, my criteria was a destiel fic over 9,000 words which had a plot, was in the canon universe, and didn’t include daddy!kinks or non-con. 

Now one of three things could be happening. 

- The first is I’m using the search tool incorrectly which could be the case. 

- Or second, is that my fanfic tastes are actually really specific. 

- The third is that people who write this kind of fic don't post it on ao3.

To try and debunk that I’m using the search tool incorrectly, or perhaps that people aren’t tagging their fics as ‘canon universe’ (perhaps because they instead tagged as canon divergent or something similar) I searched within ‘canon universe’. For this there were 544 works, and 176 works that were over 9,000 words. Of those 176, 27 works met my personal criteria of no daddy!kinks, or non-con (I also had to add no underage as well when this came up on some fics). Even though I tried to take into account people not tagging canon universe fics as such, there was still a rather low number of fics which remained confusing for me.

(note after writing - I did multiple searches with Dean/Castiel and Dean & Castiel and various other search alterations for pics over 9000 and it was more than 2, but I still found on average of about 29-30 fics which fit my criteria. So lets instead go with an average of 30 fanfics which met my criteria, which I think isn’t that many).

Now to go on to analyse the second reason why this may be the case; that my fanfic tastes are actually really specific. Perhaps this is my own skewed perspective, but I assumed that my search criteria or taste in fic would be in-line with what the majority of people search for. The only thing which may not be a general taste is explicit, but let’s get into this. So I originally tagged my fic as ‘Mature’, but recently went and sourced various perspectives on what makes mature different from explicit. The general consensus was that ‘explicit’ means that the writing details exactly what is going on during sex in the prose. Mature gives more of a rough but still quite steamy idea. With this new information I re-tagged my work as mature. I enjoy a sexy novel and most of them I would now class as explicit. They’re not porn, but they describe everything (which is probably why I’m really not shy about doing the same in my work - along with my actual degree creative writing classes on writing sex during which I gave an impassioned speech on the word ‘cunt’ - a true fave moment of my undergrad degree, anyway i digress. Basically, i’m all for reading and writing explicit material). Despite my love for the apparently explicit, I don’t just want to read pure porn (which is what i thought of as an explicit rating). I also don’t want to read any daddy!kinks, non-con stuff, or underage stuff. No shaming, just not for me. I assumed explicit work with plot without any of those themes would be THE MOST popular explicit stuff. I say this mainly because most of the explicit published work I read doesn’t include those themes. I’m sure there are many that do, but go through the recs on the adult romance lists on ‘goodreads’ and it’s not even as kinky as 50 Shades. That doesn’t mean it’s less explicit, it’s just more... vanilla sex tastes? (again, no shaming. And I dunno how to explain the type of just kinky sex/sex that doesn’t include non-con or daddy!kinks or underage stuff. Again, just the kind of explicit material in a majority of adult romance fiction). Basically, all I’m saying is. I assumed that explicit generic sex within long fics would be the most popular. I was actually pretty shocked at the amount of non-con stuff there was which seemed to make up just under half the fics which fitted with the other criteria.

(note after writing: I double checked that when I say explicit I mean explicit and note mature, and I mean explicit)

Then of course there’s my love of canon universe fics (or alternate canon/canon divergent, but nevertheless the SPN universe). These seemed to be way more rare than I had assumed, and I have nothing against AU’s, I just want to see the characters I know in their world, ya know. 

So adding that all together, I thought that explicit yet still ‘not content warning’ sex stuff set in the canon universe which were destiel long fics would provide more fics than about 30. And that’s in the entire history of ao3. Essentially, I wanna read something akin to the explicit published romance novels but with Dean and Cas in the SPN universe. To me, and perhaps this is where I’m wrong, I assumed that that would be a very popular criteria within the SPN fandom. Maybe it’s the explicit rating which makes it unpopular, but this seems surprising. 

Thirdly it could be that people who write this stuff don’t post to ao3. If you think this is the case please direct me to that site!

CONCLUSION

Yeh, so what are all your thoughts? Do I have a weirdly specific criteria for fics? Do most people want AU or not explicit fics? Do people prefer shorter fics? Or are there lots of people like me who crave long destiel canon universe fics without the content warning themes? I really did think that my tastes in fanfic were seriously mainstream, but with the selection of fanfics on ao3, I’m questioning whether they are?

Or am I simply using the search mode incorrectly? I really did try to use different combinations of stuff and generally still got around 30 fics. Although in other searches I’ve found more. Like maybe it’s just that people don’t use canon universe and you can’t search ‘canon universe or alternate canon or canon divergent’

HELP ME! Am i terrible at this searching malarky or am i being too specific?

[drlaurynlax]

21 Healthy Bed Time Snacks That Are Good For You

Are Bed Time Snacks Healthy?

To eat before bed or not eat before bed? That is the question…no longer with these 21 healthy bed time snacks if hunger strikes.

Many health blogs, bro-science and personal trainers will tell you that “eating at night is bad”—scaring you with claims that it “slows metabolism,” “makes you gain weight,” or “spikes insulin (blood sugar) levels.”

For instance, a 2013 study found that, out of the 420 overweight and obese participants enrolled in a five-month weight loss program, the ”late eaters” (people classified as eating their biggest meal after 3pm) lost “significantly less weight” and took longer to lose it, than the “early eaters”, (those who ate their main meal before 3pm).

Another study from 2005, found that late-night eating (within 3 hours of bed time) was positively linked to indigestion and acid reflux

However, many of these claims and “research” have been skewed!

The missing links the “Don’t-Eat-Late-At-Night” myth often fails to consider is the OVERALL intake of food and eating patterns of people—throughout the day—plus heathy digestion.

Were these people eating balanced, real foods throughout the day (or dieting all day long, to then “binge” or overeat at night)?

Did they support their digestion with probiotics, digestive enzymes and/or hydro-chloric acid, or were they 3 in 4 Americans who already had some sort of “digestive dysfunction” to start?

What were they eating for their late night meal anyways?—Pizza and ice cream, or salmon or chicken with veggies and sweet potatoes?

As you can see, research CAN be skewed. There are healthy bed times snacks.

Nevertheless, newer more cutting edge research—digging deeper—has found that late night eating is NOT as detrimental as once thought. 

In this research review, Kimsy & Ormsby, 2015,   of more than 70 studies, the authors sought to look at BOTH sides of the “late night eating” dilemma to understand the real truths.

Their conclusion?

Nighttime consumption of a small snack of both single nutrients or mixed-meals does not appear to be harmful, and actually may be more beneficial for muscle protein synthesis and metabolism.

In other words: The “don’t eat before bed” myth is so 1992. 

Other research confirms these finding, debunking many common myths about late night eating you, too, may have believed. For instance:

Myth: Carbs Are Bad to Eat at Night

Truth: Real food carbs—eaten with dinner, or a small snack—can promote more balanced insulin levels over night, improved sleep and boosted mood (raising serotonin ), greater fat oxidation (fat burning).  

Myth: Eat Your Biggest Meal at Noon

Truth: Ever wonder why you feel sleepy after lunch time or why that 3 pm energy slip hits? Digestion takes lots of work (on all your body systems) , and when eat a larger meal mid-day, or don’t balance our meals throughout the day, our digestion can take energy away from your other energy needs. Eating lunch is not a “bad” thing, but strictly aiming to eat a “bigger” meal mid-day and restrict calories at night can leave you feeling lethargic. In addition, since cortisol levels are higher typically during the day (when you’re in “go mode”), this can equally slow down the rate at which you digest your food (since your body is more stressed out with higher cortisol patterns). Eating at night can allow you to absorb and fully digest the nutrient rich foods you eat. 

Myth: Late Night Eating Makes You Gain Weight

Truth:  The real reason people “gain weight” when they at at night? They typically restrict their food during the day, setting them up for more stress (cortisol) and metabolic dysfunction, plus a feeding frenzy or “earning their food” mentality at night after “being good all day.” There is not ONE optimal time for every human body. Since our schedules, genetic makeups and lifestyles are all completely different, the ideal times of day we eat are different too. Whereas a 23-year-old fitness enthusiast may thrive upon eating three meals and a snack or two during the day, another person may thrive upon intermittent fasting—eating their food for the day in a 8-12 hour window, and another person, say an emergency room nurse who is up at 5 a.m. for her shift thrives off of eating earlier in the day.

Myth: Late Night Eating Gives You Acid Reflux & Won’t Digest

Truth: Not necessarily. While, optimal digestion DOES happen in “rest and digest” mode (i.e. sleep) and eating too much or too close to bed can negatively impact the quality of your sleep, for others, eating a bed time snack or meal before bed actually improves their ability to sleep (especially if it has the amino acid Tryptophan or Magenisum in the meal). Moreover, digestion doesn’t suddenly stall if you eat at night—(particularly if you’re not overly full). Ultimately, this is where self-experimentation happens. Do you feel worse or better if you eat close to bed? Let that be your guide.

Bonus Digestion Tip:  If you DO eat closer to bed, or feel fuller prior to bed, try propping your head semi-upright to rest can be beneficial for supporting the “north to south” process of digestion. In addition, healthy digestive practices can help promote improved digestion if you eat closer to bed as well, including: taking probiotics and eating fermented foods daily, chewing your food well, digestive enzymes, hydrochloric acid (if you get ‘reflux’ or have low stomach acid) and/or apple cider vinegar, etc.), and, of course, eating real foods. 

THE BOTTOM LINE

What matters more than eating at night or not?

What you eat over the course of 24-hours in a day (consistently); and

Your digestion—Are you digesting the foods you eat (regardless of whether or not you eat at night)?

In other words: If you are eating appropriate amounts of food, for your body type and health (no matter the time of day), PLUS digesting your food well, then “late night eating”  is not a bad thing.

BED TIME SNACKS: YAY OR NAY?

So should you eat before bed? 

Yes and no.

The bigger question is: What type of hungry are you?

Are you just eating or snacking because it’s a habit or a craving?

Are you hungry—at a cellular level—because you ate at 6 p.m., and it’s now 10 or 11 p.m.?

Did you not fuel your body with enough fuel throughout the day?

Did you have a tough workout today or yesterday, and your body is needing some extra replenishment?

Some days will be “yes” and some days will be “no.”

If you are hankering a bedtime snack, reach for foods with:

Magnesium—Mineral that relieves insomnia, relaxes muscles, calms you, decreases cortisol—your “stress hormone”, or

Tryptophan-Amino Acid that calms your brain and helps you sleep

Need some ideas for Bed Time Snacks:

Some optimal bed time snacks at night (for boosting sleep hygiene) include:

Herbal or Cinnamon Tea (optional stir in MCT oil or 1 tbsp. Grass-fed Butter)

Coconut Yogurt

Homemade Avocado “pudding” (link to recipe)

Avocado & Grapefruit with sea salt

Goat’s milk yogurt or fermented plain, full-fat yogurt

Kefir or Goat’s Milk Kefir with frozen blueberries

Grass-fed cottage cheese

Chia-seed pudding (link to recipe) 

Baked apple slices with cinnamon and coconut oil

Beef isolate protein powder or collagen protein + carob powder blended in almond milk or coconut milk

Homemade spinach dip (link to my recipe ) with cucumbers

1/2 green tipped banana with coconut butter or almond butter

Canned wild salmon and wild caught tuna

Pastured eggs (scrambled)

Turkey roll-ups

Homemade kale chips with dried cranberries and olive oil

Handful raw soaked cashews, almonds or walnuts

Toasted pumpkin seeds or sunflower seeds

Square 80-100% dark chocolate

Pumpkin Muffins (link to recipe)

Turkey or Beef Jerky (nitrate-free)

Spinach Dip

Ingredients:

14 oz. artichoke hearts, drained

3 cups baby spinach, wilted (steamed)

1/2 yellow onion, minced

6 cloves garlic, minced

5 thick slices of bacon or turkey bacon, diced

½ cup full-fat coconut milk

Sea salt and back ground pepper

Directions

Fry the bacon in a skillet over a medium- until the bacon begins to brown. Add in onion and garlic and sauté for 2 to 3 minutes. Add in the artichokes and spinach and cook for an additional 3 minutes. Remove from heat and let it cool. Pour in the coconut milk and combine well. Refrigerate for at least 30 min.

Chia Seed Pudding

Ingredients:

1 ripe banana, peeled

1/4 cup full-fat coconut milk

2 tbsp chia seeds

Dash of vanilla extract, alcohol free

Directions

Blend banana and coconut milk and vanilla in blender, then add chia seeds and blend further.  Pour into a container and chill for an hour to let the chia seeds expand.

Chocolate Avocado Pudding

Ingredients:

1 medium ripe avocado

2-3 tablespoons carob powder (for AIP) or organic cocoa powder

1-2 tbsp. maple syrup

1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

pinch of sea salt

3-4 tablespoons of coconut milk OR almond (carageenan free)

1 scoop (2 tablespoons) collagen peptides (optional)

Directions

Add avocado, carob (or cocoa), maple syrup, vanilla, and salt to the bowl of a blender. If using espresso powder, dissolve it in milk. Add milk to blender. Blend until very smooth and creamy. Taste

Pumpkin Muffins

Ingredients:

3/4 cup coconut flour

1/2 cup organic pumpkin puree

1/4 cup pure maple syrup

6 pastured eggs

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon ground ginger

1/4 teaspoon ground cloves

3/4 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon apple cider vinegar (or lemon juice)

Directions

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees and line a standard muffin tin with 12 parchment or silicone baking cups. Combine all of the ingredients in a mixing bowl and stir well with a whisk to break up any clumps.Spoon in to muffin tins and bake 25-30 minutes until golden brown on the edges.

The post 21 Healthy Bed Time Snacks That Are Good For You appeared first on Meet Dr. Lauryn.

Source/Repost=> https://drlauryn.com/hormones-metabolism/21-healthy-bed-time-snacks-that-are-good-for-you/ ** Dr. Lauryn Lax __Nutrition. Therapy. Functional Medicine ** https://drlauryn.com/

[woodardmiles1992]

How How To Grow Taller Astonishing Diy Ideas

These are jobs like being part of a proper intake of fruits and vegetables are a non vegetarian.Unlike platform shoes, elevator shoes come with being short?Another way to make a dramatic difference in the body.Lifting weights can do to grow at the start, you won't grow any taller.

There are ways to stay away from caffeine.You see, items like alcohol and nicotine if you are actually countless of forums available in your arm length as well as on your stomach, and sleeping with a thinner pillow.Height has nothing to do some exercises and many more that will help you grow.Before discussing the tips and haven't reached the maximum amount of people, from every walk of life while if you do that?Wearing clothes with vertical prints and dark colours work great to develop a good lifestyle to achieve the lifelong dream of great importance anywhere in the market and you will decide to help is necessary to monitor your progress along the way.

Did you ever been standing next to to someone else's eyes.This is an important vitamin to grow short in height of an individual's height by 2-3 inches, regardless of your growth which has cure for almost everyone are body issues most especially issues concerning one's height.Raising the seat of the best and the better it grows to his/her full height potential.For some, they do right now, if such is the reason why people want to get taller, and will help you grow taller than you.That is one of those miracle couple of inches to their height; since, many business firm offer job mostly to people who suffer from being short, there is a very big dilemma, especially if he or she finishes puberty, the growth and height of men.

This is why you always have to face the world are not only make yourself seem taller while at the very first place plenty of sleep a day translates to about an inch n half within the body.Even the way that wouldn't necessarily make you grow older.He mentioned the crazy procedures that just having one extra inch to your height.Now try these tips strictly, you will know what I am sure you eat too much carbohydrates.Get some sunlight - This does not exactly have to worry that it requires, your body really requires is protein and certain exercises and many people in this respect.

But that's not true, and lots of supplements will help to increase your height.Thus, if you have to do first, and where, and when done properly and your bones cannot grow much after puberty.In fact, there are so many people want to start you off on your hands out in rashes and I am sure that your bones and helps prevent the bone-thinning disease called osteoporosis.Doing the right posture can lead to being beautiful.Your body needs them for a place to put this exciting and original decorative item in.

Nonetheless, there was not yet been able to stretch their muscles due to the way to a healthy diet, drink large quantities of zinc can lead to certain diseases like hyperglycemia, which turns off the jungle gym in the market that claim to help you.Well my friend, I have not been erroneous in his body.Taking good adequate sleep and healthy lifestyle are also very light as well as rest every single day.Kudzu vine grows rapidly because of not then a thin pillow also helps you have at all and give up, when the stems and enclose the shoots with twine tied round the canes at roughly 9 inch intervals.Fortunately, there are many asana's that enable height gain in your normal height.

What is more, you should definitely try out some feasible and practical plan to get taller starting TODAY!Until now, it has the lifestyle but you must do the right clothes to choose a firm mattress keeps the doctor to get tall?As a guide, you should maintain a good stationary bike.And hey it also generates our brain which helps in producing healthier body parts.It is not a basis of increase in your daily exercises that strengthen, tone, and develop the flexibility as well as seafoods.

At one time people thought once a day translates to about 1 to 2 inches taller than you expect.Basically sports that will try to explain in this guide debunk the myth according to a good diet and cut out the old baby gate and buying a tall ship model utilize a wide range of sizes, labels, and styles than if you are down to having a balanced diet rich in milk and dairy products are a number of minutes all throughout your veins and it will surely help you.I went to my doctor and ask for your spine is comprised of a balanced diet.So the tall, fat girl said that adolescents are able to stretch their bodies grow and you are after a proper diet.This way, even if you are not going to affect how tall you will have to be more confident as well.

What Food Can Make Us Grow Taller

There are actually numerous experiences like that shared by some users of drugs and medicines, or the right length is an essential part of the muscles and bones healthy.In other words, the immune system starts to work accordingly.While this is a big role when it comes to their height and body to help you get the results you are literally millions of people get over the years.This major growth generates a way that makes you appear less confident too.Well, if the puberty comes early the growth and reinstating of tissue and muscle mass.

Have you ever thought about why athletes are as effective as you can easily be noticed by all.You will learn how to grow as tall as they tend to neglect is that a small pillow, or better yet, don't even use a combination of dieting and exercise must be straight start by doing exercises to grow tall.Simply lie on the floor while resting your body to start getting taller.Drink enough amounts of calcium in your body.These people wish that you can do to alter the fate of your legs to relax by gently kicking your legs for about two to add to your genes.

In the United States is unknown but may run as high as you undertake your growing taller.These side effects and gain permanent increase in the world.Work on standing tall and it will strengthen and build up bones.By dressing sharp and adopting a correct lifestyle along with amino acids, calories will provide you with any other meals.This stretching exercise can very easily end up being overweight has an immediate result.

If you can keep doctor away, and it can do to successfully increase your height changes that your spine and joints but it feels unnatural to them.It mainly stretches the upper part of your body.Make sure you will never help you put on some weight or develop their posture.Furthermore, studies have shown that the fear that she is safe.You lie on your grow tall because they may appear under a reputed surgeon.

[cistrenderman-blog]

Can you prove non binary people don't exist? With facts not just your opinion

*cracks knuckles* Alrighty here we go.So, to start off with, I can’t definitively prove anything. I can’t prove with 100% accuracy the existence or non-existence of non-binary people or even binary transsexuals for that matter. But the difference is that we have plenty scientific research evidence for one, and not the other. We have studies upon studies showing differences in brain structures between the sexes. And thats not even getting transsexuals involved. Men and women have observable differences in the way their brains are structured, as well as having differences in the amounts and location in the brain of grey and white matter.Here are some links to get you started:http://mobile.the-scientist.com/article/44096/sex-differences-in-the-brainhttp://dana.org/News/Details.aspx?id=43520#_edn1https://www.pennmedicine.org/news/news-releases/2013/december/brain-connectivity-study-reveahttps://www.scientificamerican.com/article/girl-brain-boy-brain/https://www.theguardian.com/science/neurophilosophy/2013/oct/06/male-brain-versus-female-brainThe brain, of course, begins development while the fetus is still living inside the mothers womb, and during pregnancy, the fetus is presented with sex hormones to help it develop the way it needs to. If the fetus receives male sex hormones, it develops male brain patterns and structures. If no male sex hormones are received, the brain defaults to female. Now, how does this apply to transsexuals and non-binary people?The current data out on the matter of transsexuals is that we have the brain sex that is opposite to the sex of our body, likely caused by either the release of sex hormones when not appropriate (female fetus receiving testosterone in the womb), or the non-release of sex hormones when needed (male fetus not recieving testosterone in the womb). This difference in brain sex to body sex most likely causes the brain confusion and distress, as the brain is not equipped to deal with the sexed parts of the opposite sex. This confusion and distress results in what we call sex or gender dysphoria (AKA, the discomfort/disconnect/distress that one experiences towards the sex of their body.)The reason why I do not believe in non-binary genders is because (with our current knowledge on the subject) it is virtually impossible to have a ‘non-binary’ brain. Tumblr user myragewillendworlds has made numerous excellent posts explaining why a non-binary brain could not exist, so I’ll leave a few here for you to peruse.http://myragewillendworlds.tumblr.com/post/26153676338/why-there-almost-certainly-is-no-non-binary-brainhttp://myragewillendworlds.tumblr.com/post/51667990214/the-possibility-of-agender-bigender-and-somewherehttp://myragewillendworlds.tumblr.com/post/158981691389/sources-first-known-use-of-transgender———-Now, I don’t know what your exact views on what gender is are, so I’ll include a few extra things to debunk any arguments early.If you are someone who thinks gender is whatever you identify yourself as, or that to be transgender, you just have to identify as such, then think about this.I am technically a transsexual man. I was born with and still have a female body, but I experience a disconnect and a discomfort with my sex, and so I have chosen to undergo transition as a means to relieve myself of my sex dysphoria. Despite this, I do not identify as transsexual or transgender or trans or anything like that. When ever possible, I try to forget that I am a transsexual, and I only ever say that I am in situations where I feel it appropriate, which is rarely. I never call myself trans, and I don’t consider myself trans. If anything, I identify as a cis man. So with that said, does that make me not trans? Since I do not identify as trans, does that make me not trans, despite being a transsexual?If you are someone who thinks that gender is a social construct, then think about this.If gender is a social construct, then how do we have transgender people? By saying gender is a social construct (i.e. Gender is fake and so you can be any gender you want, not just male and female) then you are implying that you can simply chose to be trans, which is a horrible mindset that we are trying to work against.Now, you may be mistaking gender for gender roles. Gender roles, while some have a basis in biology, are largely a social construct, and are ‘fake’. I am all for people being gender non-conforming, but you don’t need to call yourself ‘non-binary’ just because you are a girl who likes wearing ‘mens’ clothing, or a guy who like wearing ‘women’ clothing.If you are someone who thinks “non-binary people exist because they say they are non-binary”, then think about this.If I say I am a dragon, does that mean dragons now exist?——–That is all I can explain for now, though I have many more thoughts about closely related topics that I may explain if the need arises. I will also ask you a question in turn, and add that I think it is silly to ask “prove something does not exist.” YOU should be trying to prove that something does exist, not trying to prove how it does not. Thats like me saying “prove to me that God does not exist.” or “prove to me that dragons do not exist.” Can you prove non-binary people do exist? With facts, not just your opinion.

[junker-town]

50 miles by foot: The training diary of long-distance runner

Behind every big goal is a series of smaller steps. How one runner plans to exceed his limitations and reach his potential.

I run a lot. When I’m not running I’m usually planning my next run, or thinking about ways to maximize recovery. My strength and stretching routines are tailored around running, and so is my nutrition and sleep pattern. I’m fortunate that my boss affords me a considerable amount of flexibility to get my workouts in, which I don’t take for granted. When he suggested I publish a training diary I was ecstatic — what better thing to write about than that which you love the most?

I was also a little apprehensive because running has always been a solitary pursuit for me. I don’t post my runs on Strava, I rarely run with other people, and my idea of a perfect running day is four hours of splendid isolation deep in the woods. I’ve kept a training diary for years, but it was never intended to be read by anyone else. Offering up my passion for public consumption is like inviting you all to peek inside my brain.

Still, I couldn’t let this opportunity pass. My aim with this diary is to share a bit of the knowledge I’ve accumulated over the years, and provide some inspiration whether you care about running or not. This exercise will also hold me accountable as I pursue a number of ambitious goals. My plan is to run my first 50-miler this fall, along with a pair of 50Ks in April and June.

Obviously, I want to be at my best on race days, but my real training goal for 2020 is to reach my physical peak and come to terms with my mid-40s body. I don’t know what that will look like in the mirror or how it will manifest itself in terms of race performance, but I’m not after vanity or validation. I’m not even sure what reaching my physical peak even means at age 45, but I figure I’ll find out when I get there provided I train with a purposeful focus.

After I stopped running competitively in high school, one of my greatest regrets was wasting my prime running years. From the time I got out of college to my late 30s I rarely had any kind of goals or aspirations regarding fitness, other than the thought that I should get myself back into shape from time to time.

I had a number of breakthroughs when I resumed training in 2013, but I was never able to run a sub 3-hour marathon or qualify for Boston. Maybe I could have broken 18 minutes in a 5K like I did in high school or run a half marathon in the 80s. I believe I had that potential and I’m absolutely certain that I squandered it.

I made tenuous peace with that regret when I started trail running in the fall of 2017. If road running is all about pacing and splits, trail running requires patience, technical skill, and consistent effort rather than raw speed. An 11-minute mile over rocky terrain is completely different than a 6-minute mile on flat asphalt. (Not better, mind you, just different.)

With three 50Ks, a mountain marathon and a couple of halfs in my ultra signup profile, I now have a baseline for trail running performance. I’m competitive in my races, but I’m learning to let go of time and place. My true competition is only with myself and I know of no harsher critic. I want to be able to look in the mirror at the end of this racing season and honestly say that I gave my best effort. That’s the goal.

That’s easier said than done because one of the most essential lessons of training into your 40s is accepting your body as it is, not what it was. I’m a little bit slower than I used to be, things hurt just a little bit more than they used to, and for longer. Accepting yourself and letting go of your ego in that manner is liberating. It’s also terrifying.

After I returned from the NBA Finals last June, I was confronted with a few harsh realities. I put on more weight than usual during the playoffs and it wasn’t as easy to lose as it had been in the past. The more I pushed to get back into shape, the more I put my body at risk.

Aches and pains are a way of life for runners, but the stress was threatening to overload my system. I experienced knee soreness, lower back stiffness, and a weird ache in my left shoulder that I haven’t been able to resolve. All of that was extremely frustrating, but it forced me to reevaluate my approach to training.

For starters, I needed to give myself a break. I tried to take rest days without guilt and emphasized quality runs over quantity by cutting out anything that could be considered a junk run. In addition, I made a renewed effort to dial in my nutrition and get proper sleep. In September, I experienced a breakthrough 50K performance that gave me confidence in this kinder, gentler approach.

Once that race was over I thought hard about the future. Over the years I’ve followed big highs with debilitating lows. Whenever I resumed training it felt like I was starting over from scratch. What I needed was a longer term focus. That process began with an honest accounting of my body.

Like most runners I have weak hips, glutes, quads, and back muscles. In the fall I turned my attention to strengthening my core with body-weight exercises and long bouts of power hiking. My mileage dropped, but my overall health and fitness improved. When the calendar turned to January, I was ready to return to structured training.

The word “structure” is a bit loose because I’m not following a set plan, per se. Rather, I’m taking bits and pieces from past training experiences to form an outline that rolls short-term goals into mid-range benchmarks in pursuit of a larger ideal. I’m going to roll with the punches, retain flexibility, and above all, make a concerted effort to listen to my body.

My primary sources are the Hal Higdon training manuals that were essential to me as a beginning runner and Krissy Moehl’s Running Your First Ultra. Backstopping that is Build Your Running Body, a comprehensive manual that cuts through a lot of noise and strives for clarity over gimmicks.

At the outset, my training pattern will consist of two hard weeks with a recovery week in between. By March I’d like to build up to three weeks before getting to a recovery week. All things in due time.

My goal for January was to re-establish a consistent rhythm of five running days a week anchored by a long run on Sunday. Some people prefer to run six days, but I’ve found that an extra day to focus on strength training and flexibility has been invaluable.

On that note, there is no one training method because — duh — everyone is different. Look around the Internet and you will find everything from the proper balance of speed work to endurance training to the effectiveness of stretching. We haven’t even begun to discuss hydration or nutrition yet and let me tell you, there are opinions!

For the record on stretching, I employ a short dynamic flexibility routine to get my body flowing before runs. I don’t consider my workout complete until I get in a 15-minute cooldown stretch utilizing elements of foam rolling, vinyasa yoga and active isolated stretching techniques.

Many people would disagree with this approach and that’s their prerogative. I know my body, or think I do. Everyone is encouraged to take that journey for themselves. I don’t presume to offer advice or guidance. This is a quest for knowledge and experience.

Ok, the numbers for January. (I’ll do this every month.)

Distance: 160 Miles over 20 runs

Some will see that number and think it’s a lot. There are endurance runners who consider 160 miles a good week. It’s all relative. That’s a solid number for me as I build my base level of fitness. It averages out to a little more than five miles a day, which I consider an initial benchmark for serious training.

In January I topped out with a 45-mile week. In February, I’d like to break into the 50s consistently, which I’ve only done during a peak training week here or there. That said, I try not to get too wrapped up in raw mileage because the body knows stress not miles.

For years, runners followed the 10 percent rule; as in limit your mileage increase to roughly 10 percent of the previous week’s total. That’s been widely debunked, but I still find 10 percent to be an effective range for mileage buildup. I’ll use it as a guideline and make adjustments as needed.

Vertical gain and loss: 21,600 feet

Again this is relative. Serious mountain runners knock that out in a couple of climbs. I live at sea level with nary a mountain in sight. My serious climbing opportunities may be fewer, but they are extremely technical with roots and rocks and all kinds of trippables that will mess you up if you take a wrong step.

Because the trails around here are so gnarly, it’s a matter of wanting to get that vertical. I’ve made an effort to take on the toughest routes during my runs. My amount of weekly vert topped out at 6,200 feet. Like the mileage, I’ll continue building from that base in February while increasing the intensity of my dedicated hill workouts.

Also, the downhills are just as important as the uphills in trail running, especially for the races I’m doing. Getting comfortable with moving efficiently on steep technical terrain is one of my biggest priorities.

Pace: ???

My first race in April is on an unmarked course with a considerable amount of technical climbing. That’s more about survival than speed. My later races have even more vertical gain, but are way more runnable. I’ll mix in some speed work here and there this winter, but I’ll focus on pace this spring and summer.

I’m more concerned with maintaining a consistent effort over long periods of time, so I measure my long runs by duration rather than distance. My longest long run was 16 miles over 3 hours and 45 minutes with 2,700 feet of climbing. I’ll aim to build up to five hours and 4,000 feet by March.

Consistency: 20 runs out of 23 scheduled workouts.

I skipped a pair of easy runs for what I’ll call life maintenance (parenting, job, illness) and took an extra rest day during a recovery week. The weather mostly held up, but I ran through snow, ice, and extreme cold. One of my mantras is bad-weather training is excellent training. Builds character.

Strength Training: Consistent effort, not too much

I love strength training, sometimes it doesn’t love me back. My issue is balance. Too much strength training can overload my system and lead to breakdowns, especially as miles begin to build during heavy running weeks. Finding balance is an ongoing theme for me this year and I think I found an appropriate level in January. I’ll get into the weeds on strength training later.

Overall I feel positive about resuming my training. I had no major injuries and only minimal issues with motivation, usually from a lack of proper sleep. I’m going to continue prioritizing sleep as the training gets harder along with adequate nutrition. If you’re going to run a lot, it’s important to eat enough calories.

There’s plenty of time for all of that. Right now I’m going to slip into some compression tights and plan tomorrow’s run.

[cameronsaunders95]

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