#too much sodium is bad for your heart

[katatonicimpression]

So, this web series has so far been one long storyline by Derek Landy (now, officially on the shit list), with a few different artists: Marcio Fiorito, Phillip Sevy & Davide Tinto. The colourists were Erick Arciniega at first, and then Fer Sifuentes-Sujo took over. The final chunk of this series is essentially alternating between Fiorito and Tinto.

So, lets talk about the art first.

You would not have guessed that the colourist was the same each week, given how Fiorito's Wanda looked a helluva lot whiter than Tinto's.

Honestly Fiorito's art was just not great. Sorry but it had a lot of pretty rough moments:

Although a few nicer bits here and there. I liked this Sam, for example:

Honestly it feels like it was produced under rushed circumstances.

I actually made an edit of Sevy's Wanda, and yeah I think he did better than the other two.

But, by far the funniest part of the whole thing is how Fiorito would draw Sam clean shaven (which is, imo, correct for 616 Sam) and Tinto would draw him with a beard. And not even a good beard. So, Sam would be starting a conversation with no beard and ending it with one. Staggering. How does this happen? I'd like to imagine that both artists knew this was a thing but were each too stubborn to change.

The Plot:

I don't care it was fine whatever. Purple space aliens.

The Sam:

Early on in this saga, Sam gets the shit beaten out of him by one of the extra tough aliens (a Fear Teacher). This goes on for a really long time. Seriously, you're just scrolling and scrolling for pages watching him get brutalised.

Now, this is pretty bad. In general, I actually have a fairly high tolerance for violence in fiction, and, in general, I am often the one saying (or at least thinking) "stop complaining about bad things happening to characters you like. it's part of the story, it will lead somewhere" so hopefully it's clear that when I say this felt like too much, I really do mean something by it. The proportion of the comic taken up with this was way too high, even if it had paid off in some narrative way.

It didn't, though.

Both during the beatdown and a few times in the subsequent issues, we get dialogue about how Sam is a less formidable fighter than the other avengers. How he's just some guy and doesn't stack up to them. How he and t'challa can't breathe in space (and, like, neither can Tony but go off). It feels very deliberate and honestly kind of tiring, but you would think it was leading to something, right?

Why put this extensive beat down and all this dialogue about Sam's supposed inferiority into the comic if you're not building to something?

The obvious thing to think here is that this story is set in 616, so Sam is absolutely not just some human dude with no powers. He has telepathic powers. He is very much a special little guy. So, you might think that this was how this was going to pay off. That he'd use his abilities in some unexpected way, showing his worth even if he doesn't shoot lasers.

That doesn't happen, though. I don't think Landy knows that Sam isn't human.

The other option, and what I think (very charitably) Landy was trying to do, was show Sam being Mr Diplomat, and talking to the aliens and that's how he's useful. He gets healed in a magical space healing tube for a bit, then is the main guy who talks to the aliens throughout. There are two problems with this.

The first problem is that Landy's Sam just feels like Steve. And not even a good Steve, like, a very bland version of Steve. Sam's personality is not present when he's talking to the aliens. He's all "sir" and "ma'am" and this very formal "military guy being diplomatic" thing, and that is not 616 Sam. He's a talker, yes. He's empathetic and willing to hear people out, but he's not a soldier, he's not a politician or a diplomat or anything like that. And he's funnier, more brazen. He'd be willing to insult the aliens on purpose, is my point. Landy is hardly the first writer to deliver the blandest possible mischaracterisation of Sam, but it's annoying every time and I think we tolerate it too much.

The second problem, is that Landy does not seem willing to commit to actually having Sam succeed. Sam's job is to be the guy who talks politics to the aliens. Unless it's an important moment or a cool, righteous hero line, then Carol has to say it.

Seriously, that's what happens. Sam's function is to provide exposition, and to vaguely endanger himself in ways that have no consequence. Then, he steps aside to let Carol deliver any and all important dialogue including righteous political shit that surely, surely, you would give to the literal captain america character? No?

So, if the intent was to resolve this by saying Sam adds value through his "talking to people about politics and idealism" skills, then that intention never made it to the final page.

No, what we get is a story that emphasises how much the writer thinks Sam is useless and is worse than everyone else. He just says it over and over again and has an alien beat the shit out of him.

Right at the end of the penultimate issue, Sam comes face to face with a Fear Teacher (I believe the same one who nearly killed him). You would have thought that this would prompt a second fight between them, this time Sam wins, showing that he is, in fact, an impressive super hero in his own right. But no. Instead, in the final issue we cut to Sam already fleeing down a corridor away from the guy.

You guys I'm so mad about this and it's literally just a dumb online mini comic wtf

[savetheghost]

save do you have any tips for managing migraines

uhhhhhh lessee

personally i have prescriptions for it cause mine screwed my brain up but obvious ones like proper rest + maybe log what you eat and see if theres any correlation + general put nutrients in your body stuff which is actually kind of hard to keep track of

i have some REALLY WEIRD scent based triggers so i have to stay away from ammonia-like scents and eucalyptus cause those will put my ass out flat IMMEDIATELY, thats not an everyone thing but maybe note if theres sensory stuff around you that might be a trigger

for me warm toned lights and screen tints are way better than cool tones/white light and if youve got light colored eyes wear amber tinted sunglasses outdoors

water + salty snack > pedialite > gatorade and depending on caffeine sensitivity maybe moderate that cause it can either help or hurt, kinda depends on the person, but water and saltines will get you electrolytes and its cheap as fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck even if it doesnt taste as great as gatorade

sunlight on your skin and not in your eyeballs

also vitamin d just in general helps but its way better to actually use the sun for that than trying to digest it so like just 10ish minutes in the sun is what my neurologist recommended on top of taking 2000mg tablets

thats what ive got off the top of my head

[magical-reid]

Chemistry in Chaos

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 9.4K

Warning: Not Proofread

Summary: Even in the darkest moments, when the Nogitsune’s whispers clawed at the edges of their minds, Stiles and Y/N found light in each other, a quiet reminder that love was stronger than fear. Together, they rebuilt what was broken, proving that even in the chaos, hope could bloom.

Stiles’ Perspective

The air in the chemistry lab always smelled faintly of sulfur and old textbooks, a mixture that clung to the back of my throat. I wasn’t really paying attention to Mr. Harris droning on about covalent bonds; my pencil was stuck between my teeth, bouncing slightly as I tapped my knee against the underside of the desk.

It wasn’t like I didn’t care about chemistry—I mean, science is kind of cool in a “fun-fact-you’ll-never-use” way. But lately, focusing on anything for more than thirty seconds felt impossible. Especially when I was… me. Or whatever I was becoming.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her. My chemistry partner. You. You sat two seats to my left, your elbow propped on the desk, chin resting on your hand. The sunlight streaming through the windows caught in your hair, creating a halo-like glow that made my chest tighten uncomfortably.

Not that you noticed. Not that we ever talked, except for the bare minimum required to get through Mr. Harris’ impossible lab instructions. You’d lean in with quiet questions, like, “How many milliliters does he want for this?” or “Did I add too much sodium hydroxide?” And I’d stammer out a reply, feeling like a total idiot because my heart started doing backflips every time you spoke.

But that was it. Outside of class, we were practically strangers.

I wanted to change that. I’d spent too much time convincing myself I didn’t care. But now? With everything that was happening to me? With the blackouts, the creeping sense that I wasn’t entirely in control anymore, I couldn’t help but wonder: if I was running out of time, would it be so bad to just… say something to you?

“Stilinski,” Harris snapped, jolting me out of my thoughts. “Maybe if you spent less time daydreaming and more time working, you’d actually pass this class.”

The laughter that rippled through the classroom was sharp and humiliating. My cheeks burned as I ducked my head, muttering an apology.

When I glanced back at you, your lips twitched—not a laugh, but a faint, amused smile. And for some reason, that felt worse than the humiliation. Like you were untouchable. Like I’d always just be the awkward guy in your peripheral vision.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Reader’s Perspective

You didn’t mean to smile, really. It wasn’t fair that Harris always singled Stiles out. But there was something so… endearingly ridiculous about the way his head jerked up like he’d been caught sleeping in class when you knew for a fact he’d been wide awake the whole time.

He was a puzzle, Stiles Stilinski. All flailing limbs and sarcastic quips, but with this odd, quiet intensity beneath the surface. You noticed it in the way his brows furrowed when he worked through problems, his eyes darting between the formulas like he was connecting dots no one else could see.

You noticed a lot about him, actually. Too much, maybe.

Like how he’d scribble notes in the margins of his textbook, things that weren’t even about chemistry—doodles of stick figures or rambling ideas about whatever supernatural chaos was consuming Beacon Hills that week. Or how he never seemed to sit still, even when he was trying to.

You noticed, and yet… you never said anything. What could you say? It wasn’t like you and Stiles were friends. You were just two people who shared a lab station.

So why, lately, did you catch yourself watching him more than you should?

Mr. Harris called for the class to pair up for the day’s experiment, and you felt a flicker of nerves. Not because the experiment was hard, but because working with Stiles always threw you off balance in a way you couldn’t explain.

“Hey,” he said softly as he slid into the seat beside you, the word accompanied by an awkward little wave.

“Hey,” you replied, trying to sound casual as you adjusted your notebook.

For a while, you worked in relative silence, exchanging the occasional question or observation. But when Stiles’ hand brushed yours as you both reached for the same beaker, you flinched.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, pulling back quickly. His voice was strained, like he was embarrassed.

“It’s fine,” you said, forcing a small smile. But your heart was racing for reasons you didn’t want to unpack.

What you didn’t notice was the shadow flickering in his eyes—the way his hands trembled slightly as he gripped the edge of the desk.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Void!Stiles Perspective

It was almost too easy.

Watching the way he looked at you, so full of longing and hesitation, was pathetic. Stiles was so busy tying himself in knots over his stupid crush that he didn’t even notice me slipping into the cracks of his mind.

Her.

The word thrummed through him like a heartbeat. Quiet, persistent, and utterly vulnerable.

You were his weak spot, whether he realized it or not. And oh, I was going to have so much fun with that.

When he reached for the beaker and your hands brushed, I felt the sharp jolt of adrenaline that shot through him. The way he recoiled, stumbling over his words.

It would be funny if it weren’t so sad.

And then there was you. Sweet, oblivious you. You didn’t even realize how easily I could destroy you—how I could twist this fragile connection into something far darker.

I grinned. Not that anyone could see it, but I grinned.

“Time’s up,” Harris announced, snapping everyone’s attention back to the front of the room.

For now, I stayed quiet. But I’d already made my decision.

The game was about to begin.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Reader’s Perspective

The rest of chemistry class passed in a blur. You tried to focus on balancing equations, jotting down formulas, and double-checking measurements, but you couldn’t shake the unease that prickled at the edges of your thoughts.

It wasn’t Stiles, exactly—well, not just him. There was something off about him today, a weight in the air around him that hadn’t been there before. It made your stomach twist, though you couldn’t quite explain why.

When the bell rang, you packed your bag quickly and muttered a quiet, “See you tomorrow,” to Stiles, who nodded distractedly. His hand twitched at his side, like he wanted to say something but didn’t know how.

You didn’t wait.

Walking down the hallway, you replayed the last hour in your head. It was the little things that stuck out: the way his eyes had lingered on you longer than usual, dark and searching. The way his fingers had trembled slightly when he handed you a graduated cylinder. The way he seemed… fractured.

It wasn’t your problem, though. You told yourself that as you wove through the crowded hallways, heading toward your next class. You barely even knew Stiles Stilinski outside of chemistry. Whatever was going on with him, it wasn’t your responsibility to figure it out.

Still, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was coming. Something bad.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Void!Stiles Perspective

She was nervous. I could feel it, the way her pulse quickened as she glanced at him during class. The way she practically bolted out of the room when the bell rang.

Good. Fear was the foundation of control. And control… control was everything.

I followed her as she moved through the hallways, slipping into the shadows just beyond her line of sight. Stiles would’ve hesitated, would’ve worried about what people might think if they caught him trailing her like some lovesick puppy. But I didn’t have those limitations.

I wasn’t Stiles.

She wasn’t paying attention as she opened her locker, pulling out books with mechanical efficiency. Her cheer uniform peeked out from beneath her sweatshirt, a bright contrast against the dull gray of the hallway.

“Y/N,” I said, my voice low and sharp, letting the syllables cut through the air like a blade.

She jumped, spinning around to face me.

“Stiles,” she breathed, clutching her notebook to her chest. “You scared me.”

I smiled—or rather, he smiled. It was the kind of smile that didn’t quite reach the eyes. The kind that made people squirm.

“Sorry about that,” I said smoothly. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

Her brow furrowed. There was a flicker of hesitation in her eyes, like she wasn’t sure if she should believe me.

“Uh, it’s fine,” she said after a moment, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other. “Did you need something?”

I tilted my head, studying her. She was so… vulnerable. So unguarded.

“Actually, yeah,” I said, stepping closer. “I was wondering if you had a minute to talk.”

She blinked, clearly caught off guard. “About what?”

“Chemistry,” I said, letting the word hang in the air just long enough to make her uncomfortable.

It was a lie, of course. But she didn’t need to know that.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Reader’s Perspective

Something wasn’t right.

Stiles was standing too close, his gaze too sharp, his smile too cold. It was like looking at a stranger wearing his face.

“Uh… sure?” you said hesitantly, clutching your notebook tighter. “What about chemistry?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he leaned against the locker beside yours, his arms crossed casually over his chest. But there was nothing casual about the way his eyes bore into you, like he was dissecting you piece by piece.

“You know,” he said slowly, “you’re a lot smarter than people give you credit for.”

The compliment caught you off guard, and you felt your cheeks flush. “I—thanks, I guess?”

“Don’t mention it,” he said, his smile widening. But there was no warmth in it.

The unease in your stomach grew, twisting tighter with every passing second. You glanced around the hallway, hoping to spot someone—anyone—who might interrupt. But the crowd had thinned, leaving you alone with him.

“Look, if this is about the lab,” you said quickly, trying to fill the silence, “I can double-check the notes for you tomorrow. I’m kind of late for—”

“Do you ever get tired of pretending?” he interrupted, his voice dropping an octave.

Your heart skipped a beat. “Pretending?”

“You know,” he said, leaning in closer. His breath was cold against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. “Pretending you don’t notice the way he looks at you. Pretending you don’t like it.”

Your mouth went dry. “What are you talking about?”

“Come on, Y/N,” he said, his tone almost mocking. “Don’t play dumb. It doesn’t suit you.”

He reached out then, brushing a strand of hair from your face with a gentleness that felt entirely out of place. You flinched, stumbling back against the lockers.

“Stiles,” you said, your voice trembling. “You’re freaking me out.”

For a split second, something flickered in his eyes—something dark and hollow and wrong.

And then he stepped back, his expression shifting so quickly it was like the moment had never happened.

“Sorry,” he said lightly, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

But the damage was already done.

You didn’t say anything as he turned and walked away, whistling softly to himself.

And you didn’t notice the way he glanced back over his shoulder, his grin sharp enough to draw blood.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Stiles’ Perspective

I was losing time again.

One second, I was in chemistry, sitting next to Y/N and trying to convince myself that the slight brush of her hand against mine wasn’t the best thing to happen to me all week. The next, I was sitting in my Jeep with the engine running, staring blankly at the steering wheel like I’d just come out of a fog.

My heart was racing, my hands gripping the wheel so tightly that my knuckles ached. I didn’t know how I’d gotten here. I didn’t know where I’d gone.

But I knew who had been driving.

“Get out of my head,” I muttered, my voice cracking.

The Nogitsune didn’t answer. Not verbally, anyway. But I felt it, coiled deep inside me like a viper, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. It had been quiet for a while, letting me think—falsely—that maybe I could regain control. That maybe I could keep the people I cared about safe.

But I should’ve known better.

My phone buzzed on the passenger seat, pulling me out of my spiraling thoughts. I grabbed it with trembling hands and saw a text from Y/N.

“Can we talk?”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I stared at the screen, my thumb hovering over the keyboard as panic surged through me.

What had he done?

I could barely remember the last hour. The flashes I did recall—the locker, her wide eyes, the sound of my own voice dripping with malice—made me feel sick.

I typed out a response with shaky fingers:

“What happened?”

I hit send before I could second-guess myself, the knot in my chest tightening as I watched the message go through. Seconds stretched into what felt like hours, and I had to remind myself to breathe.

When her reply finally came, my stomach dropped.

“You know exactly what happened. Meet me at the bleachers after practice.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, the phone slipping from my grip onto the passenger seat.

“You’re slipping,” a voice purred from somewhere deep inside my mind.

“Shut up,” I muttered under my breath, digging my nails into my palms until the pain cut through the chaos.

The Nogitsune laughed, a sound that was somehow both inhuman and eerily familiar. “You should’ve seen her face. The fear. The confusion. She looked at you like you were a monster. Because that’s what you are, Stiles.”

“No,” I said firmly, my voice barely above a whisper. “I can fix this.”

The laugh grew louder, echoing in my skull. “Fix it? Oh, Stiles. I don’t think you understand the rules of the game. There is no fixing this. You’re already too far gone.”

I gritted my teeth, gripping the steering wheel so hard I thought it might snap. But I didn’t argue. What was the point? Deep down, I was terrified the Nogitsune was right.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Reader’s Perspective

The bleachers were empty, the late afternoon sunlight casting long shadows across the field as you paced back and forth. Practice had ended twenty minutes ago, but you barely noticed the other cheerleaders filtering out one by one, their chatter fading into the distance.

Your thoughts were a storm, swirling with questions you didn’t have the answers to.

What the hell had happened in the hallway? That wasn’t Stiles. At least, it hadn’t felt like him. The boy you knew—awkward, sarcastic, endearingly clumsy—had been replaced by someone colder. Someone sharper.

And yet… it was him.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to shake the chill that lingered long after he’d walked away. You didn’t know what you expected to get out of this conversation, but you couldn’t let it go. Not until you knew the truth.

The sound of footsteps pulled you from your thoughts. You looked up to see Stiles walking toward you, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie. He looked… hesitant. Nervous.

Almost like himself.

But the memory of that cold smile was still fresh in your mind, and you took an instinctive step back as he approached.

He noticed, and something in his expression cracked.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice soft. “I—”

“What’s going on with you?” you interrupted, your voice sharper than you intended.

He flinched, like the words physically hurt.

“Nothing,” he said quickly, too quickly. “I mean, everything’s fine. Why wouldn’t it be?”

You stared at him, your jaw tightening. “Are you serious right now? You’re going to stand there and act like nothing happened?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but you didn’t give him the chance.

“You’re different, Stiles,” you said, your voice trembling. “The way you looked at me today—the way you spoke to me—it wasn’t you. So if this is some kind of joke, or if something’s wrong, you need to tell me. Now.”

For a moment, he just stood there, his mouth opening and closing like he didn’t know what to say. And then he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“You’re right,” he admitted, his voice barely audible.

Your heart skipped a beat. “What?”

“You’re right,” he repeated, finally meeting your eyes. “Something’s… wrong. I don’t know how to explain it, but I—”

He stopped abruptly, his body stiffening. His gaze flicked to something just over your shoulder, and the blood drained from his face.

“Stiles?” you said, glancing back. There was nothing there.

When you turned back to him, his expression had changed. His eyes were darker, colder. The slight tremble in his hands was gone, replaced by an unsettling stillness.

“Sorry about that,” he said smoothly, his lips curving into a smile that made your skin crawl. “Where were we?”

Your stomach dropped. “Stiles?”

He tilted his head, his smile widening. “That’s my name. Don’t wear it out.”

“No,” you whispered, shaking your head. “You’re not—”

“Not what?” he interrupted, stepping closer. His voice was soft, almost playful, but there was an edge to it that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Not Stiles?” he continued, his tone mocking. “Oh, sweetheart. You’re smarter than that. You know who I am.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “The Nogitsune,” you said quietly, the word tasting bitter on your tongue.

“Bingo,” he said with a grin, spreading his arms theatrically. “And here I thought you weren’t paying attention.”

You stumbled back, your heart pounding as the reality of the situation hit you like a freight train.

“I wouldn’t run if I were you,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement. “It’s so much more fun when you play along.”

“What do you want?” you demanded, your voice shaking.

He smirked, taking another step forward. “Oh, it’s not about what I want,” he said. “It’s about what he wants.”

Your chest tightened. “What are you talking about?”

“Stiles,” he said simply, his voice softening in a way that made it even more chilling. “He wants you. Always has. Didn’t you know that?”

You froze, your mind racing. “You’re lying.”

“Am I?” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

For a moment, his expression flickered. His grin faltered, replaced by something raw and desperate. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, his whole body trembling like he was fighting to stay in control.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice strained. “Run. Now.”

And then the grin was back, sharp and cruel as ever.

“Too late,” he said with a laugh, his dark eyes gleaming with triumph.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Reader’s Perspective

You didn’t run. You should’ve. Every instinct screamed at you to turn and bolt, to get as far away from him—or it, or whatever that was—as possible.

But you couldn’t move. Your legs felt like lead, your heart pounding so hard it drowned out everything else. You stayed frozen until the thing wearing Stiles’ face—Void, Nogitsune, whatever it was—turned and walked away, whistling a haunting, familiar tune.

It left you there, alone under the bleachers, the cold wind biting at your skin.

And for the first time in a long time, you felt truly terrified.

The next few days were a blur. You went to school, went to practice, and tried to act like everything was fine. But you avoided the chemistry lab at all costs, making excuses to Mr. Harris about needing to work in the library or staying late to make up assignments.

You didn’t want to see Stiles.

Or the thing inside him.

When you did catch glimpses of him in the hallways—his familiar, lanky frame, his wide brown eyes scanning the crowd—your stomach twisted painfully. You didn’t know if it was fear, anger, or some awful mixture of both.

You kept your distance, walking the long way around campus if you thought you might run into him. But that didn’t stop him from trying.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Stiles’ Perspective

It was unbearable.

Every time I saw her—Y/N—in the hallway, my chest felt like it was caving in. She wouldn’t look at me. She wouldn’t even glance in my direction.

Not that I could blame her.

The memories of that day were fuzzy, fractured into pieces I could barely fit together. But I remembered enough. I remembered the way her voice shook when she said my name. The way she stumbled back, her eyes wide with fear.

I remembered the smile. That awful, twisted grin that didn’t belong to me but somehow felt carved into my face.

I hated myself for it.

“Are you even listening, Stiles?” Scott’s voice snapped me back to reality.

We were standing by the lockers, Scott looking at me with that patented mix of concern and exasperation. He’d been hovering ever since I told him about the Nogitsune. I appreciated it, but it didn’t make the weight in my chest any easier to carry.

“Sorry,” I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck. “What were you saying?”

Scott sighed. “I was asking if you’ve talked to her yet.”

I tensed. “She doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“Stiles—”

“I can’t,” I said sharply, cutting him off. “I don’t even know what I’d say. ‘Hey, sorry about the whole creepy possession thing. Hope you’re not too traumatized.’ Yeah, that’ll go great.”

Scott frowned. “You can’t just avoid her forever. She’s already scared, and if you keep ignoring the problem, it’s only going to get worse.”

I knew he was right. Of course he was right. But the idea of facing her, of seeing the fear in her eyes again, made my stomach churn.

Still, I couldn’t let things stay like this.

“I’ll talk to her,” I said finally.

Scott gave me a small, encouraging smile. “Good. You’ve got this.”

I wasn’t so sure.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Reader’s Perspective

You’d just finished practice when you saw him standing by the bleachers, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie.

Stiles.

Your stomach twisted painfully, your grip tightening on the strap of your bag. You thought about walking the other way, but the look on his face stopped you. He seemed… lost. Nervous.

Not the boy you’d seen under the bleachers.

You hesitated, your pulse quickening as he caught sight of you and straightened.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice soft. “Hey.”

You stayed where you were, keeping a few feet of distance between you. “What do you want, Stiles?”

He winced at the sharpness in your tone, his shoulders hunching slightly. “I just… I wanted to talk. To explain.”

“There’s nothing to explain,” you said quickly, your voice trembling. “I know what’s going on with you. Or with… whatever that thing is inside you.”

He flinched, and for a moment, you felt a pang of guilt.

“I know you’re scared,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I don’t blame you. But it wasn’t me, Y/N. You have to know that. It wasn’t me.”

“Wasn’t it?” you shot back, your throat tightening. “It looked like you. It sounded like you.”

“I know,” he said, his voice cracking. “I know, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m trying to fight it, I swear, but it’s—it’s stronger than I thought.”

You looked away, your chest aching. You wanted to believe him. You really did. But every time you closed your eyes, all you could see was that cold, mocking smile.

“I don’t know if I can trust you,” you admitted quietly, your voice barely audible.

The words hit him like a physical blow. He staggered slightly, his face crumpling in a way that made your heart ache.

“I get it,” he said after a long moment, his voice hollow. “I do. I just… I wanted you to know that I would never hurt you. Not on purpose. Not if I could help it.”

You swallowed hard, blinking back the sting of tears. “I want to believe you, Stiles. But I don’t know if I can. Not yet.”

He nodded, his jaw tight. “Okay,” he said softly. “Okay. I’ll… I’ll give you space. As much as you need.”

He took a step back, his hands raised in surrender. But before he turned to leave, he looked at you one last time, his eyes filled with an unbearable mix of longing and regret.

“I’m not giving up on us,” he said quietly. “I don’t care how long it takes. I’ll prove to you that you can trust me again.”

And then he walked away, leaving you standing there with a lump in your throat and a storm raging in your chest.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Reader’s Perspective

You told yourself it wasn’t a big deal.

The way Stiles lingered outside the locker room after practice. How he waited at your usual bench in the library, even when you didn’t show up for study hall. How he kept sliding carefully folded notes into your locker, short and desperate things that you couldn’t bring yourself to throw away.

It wasn’t a big deal.

Except it was.

You didn’t open the first note right away. Or the second. But by the third, your curiosity—or maybe something deeper—got the better of you.

“I’m sorry. That’s probably not enough, but I don’t know what else to say. I’ll do anything to make this right. Please just give me a chance.”

You read it twice, then shoved it into the bottom of your bag.

You didn’t answer.

Over the next week, you couldn’t avoid him completely. Beacon Hills was too small for that. But you made sure to keep your distance whenever you could.

In chemistry, you avoided meeting his gaze, keeping your head down as you scribbled notes or pretended to focus on the day’s experiment. Stiles didn’t push. He kept his voice low and his words few, careful not to overstep.

And yet, you could feel his eyes on you, full of things he wasn’t saying.

It was exhausting.

Your emotions were a tangled mess—fear, anger, guilt, and something softer that you didn’t want to name. You couldn’t forget the way he’d looked at you under the bleachers, dark and dangerous. But you also couldn’t forget the way he’d looked at you since then, with quiet desperation and raw sincerity.

You were caught between the two, unsure which version of Stiles was real—or if either of them were.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Stiles’ Perspective

I was losing her.

Every time I saw Y/N—every time I caught her avoiding me in the hallways, her shoulders stiff and her head down—it felt like another piece of me was breaking.

The Nogitsune hadn’t even tried to hide its amusement. It whispered to me in the quiet moments, taunting me with images of her flinching away, her eyes wide with fear.

“Why do you even bother?” it hissed. “She’ll never trust you again. She shouldn’t trust you.”

“Shut up,” I muttered under my breath, slamming my locker shut.

But no matter how hard I tried to tune it out, the voice was always there. Twisting. Digging.

And the worst part? It was right.

The tipping point came on a rainy Thursday afternoon.

You were sitting in the library, headphones on and a textbook open in front of you, though you weren’t really reading it. The rain drummed softly against the windows, filling the silence with a soothing rhythm.

When you felt a presence beside you, you looked up instinctively—and froze.

Stiles was standing there, holding two steaming cups of hot chocolate. He hesitated when he saw your expression, his grip tightening on the cups.

“Hey,” he said softly.

You didn’t respond, your heart pounding as you weighed your options. Part of you wanted to tell him to leave, to walk away and stop making this harder than it already was. But another part of you—the part that still remembered the old Stiles, the one who always knew how to make you laugh during labs—couldn’t bring yourself to say it.

So you stayed silent.

He took that as permission, sliding into the seat across from you. He set one of the cups in front of you, then wrapped his hands around the other, like he needed something to anchor himself.

“I figured you could use this,” he said, his voice low. “It’s from the place by the field. You know, the one that always burns their coffee but somehow makes the best hot chocolate?”

You stared at the cup, your chest tightening. You used to stop there after practice sometimes.

“How did you—” You stopped yourself, shaking your head.

“I remember stuff,” he said quietly. “About you.”

That admission hit you harder than you wanted to admit.

“Why are you doing this, Stiles?” you asked finally, meeting his gaze.

He didn’t look away. “Because I’m trying to prove to you that I’m still me,” he said simply. “That I’m not… I’m not just what you saw under the bleachers. I’m not the Nogitsune. I’m me. And I care about you.”

Your breath hitched, your fingers tightening around the edge of the table.

“Don’t,” you said softly, your voice cracking. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not?” he asked, his voice full of quiet desperation. “It’s true. You can pretend all you want, Y/N, but you know it is. I’ve cared about you for months. And I know I screwed up. I know I scared you. But I can’t let you go without at least trying to fix this.”

You didn’t know what to say. The words hung between you, heavy and impossible to ignore.

“I don’t know if I can trust you,” you whispered after a long moment.

“I know,” he said. “And I don’t expect you to just… forgive me overnight. But I’m not going anywhere, okay? I’ll do whatever it takes, for however long it takes, to prove to you that you can trust me again.”

His voice was steady, but his eyes were pleading.

You looked down at the cup of hot chocolate, your vision blurring slightly.

“Stiles,” you began, but your voice wavered. You didn’t know what you wanted to say.

“Just think about it,” he said softly, standing up before you could respond.

He didn’t wait for you to say anything else, leaving the hot chocolate on the table as he walked away.

For a long time, you just sat there, staring at the cup as the rain continued to fall outside.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Reader’s Perspective

You didn’t drink the hot chocolate.

At least, not right away. You sat in the library until the rain stopped, staring at the cup like it held the answer to a question you were too afraid to ask. Eventually, you picked it up, the faint warmth reminding you that Stiles had been there, that he’d gone out of his way to bring it to you.

That night, you tossed and turned, the words he’d said echoing in your head. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You weren’t sure what scared you more—his determination, or the possibility that he might actually mean it.

The next day at school, you felt like a live wire, jittery and on edge. You’d barely slept, and the thought of seeing Stiles again made your stomach twist uncomfortably. You didn’t know what you were supposed to say to him.

But fate—or Beacon Hills—had other plans.

The attack happened just after third period.

You were walking through the empty hallway outside the gym when you heard it—a sharp crack, like something heavy slamming against the wall.

You froze, your heart pounding. “Hello?” you called out hesitantly, your voice echoing in the stillness.

No answer.

Another noise—this one louder, closer. It sounded like someone was fighting, the scuffle of shoes against tile followed by a low, guttural growl that sent a chill down your spine.

You took a step back, but before you could move any farther, something slammed into the lockers just ahead of you.

It wasn’t human.

You didn’t even get a good look at it before it lunged, a blur of claws and teeth heading straight for you.

You screamed, stumbling backward and throwing your arms up in a desperate attempt to shield yourself. But before it could reach you, another figure slammed into it, knocking it away with a force that rattled the lockers.

“Get out of here!”

The voice was familiar. Too familiar.

You lowered your arms just in time to see Stiles standing between you and the creature, his chest heaving as he braced himself for its next attack.

“Stiles?” you whispered, your voice shaking.

He glanced back at you, his expression tight with fear—and something else. “Y/N, run. Now!”

But you couldn’t move. Your legs felt like they were made of lead, your body rooted to the spot as the creature lunged at him again.

“Stiles!” you screamed.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Stiles’ Perspective

She wasn’t running.

Why isn’t she running?

The thing—a chimera, maybe, or some other supernatural experiment gone horribly wrong—was fast, but I was faster. Adrenaline coursed through me as I dodged its claws, my focus split between the fight and the girl behind me.

“Y/N, go!” I shouted again, barely ducking in time to avoid a swipe aimed at my head.

But she didn’t move.

I didn’t have time to think about it. The creature charged again, and I threw myself at it, slamming my shoulder into its chest. We hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the wind out of me.

For a second, I thought I had it under control. But then it twisted, its claws slicing across my arm, and I cried out in pain.

“Stiles!”

Her voice was sharp, panicked, and too close.

I turned my head just in time to see her rushing toward me, a fire extinguisher in her hands.

“Y/N, don’t—”

But she was already swinging it, the metal canister connecting with the creature’s head with a sickening crack. It stumbled, letting out a snarl as it turned its attention to her.

“No!” I scrambled to my feet, ignoring the pain in my arm as I threw myself between them again.

The creature hesitated, its dark eyes flicking between the two of us. And then, with a low growl, it turned and bolted down the hallway, disappearing into the shadows.

The silence that followed was deafening.

“Are you okay?” I asked, turning to her. My voice came out rough, strained.

She was staring at me, her chest heaving, the fire extinguisher still clutched in her trembling hands.

“Stiles,” she said, her voice cracking. “Your arm.”

I glanced down, barely registering the blood soaking through my sleeve. “It’s fine,” I said quickly. “What about you? Did it—”

“I’m fine,” she said, cutting me off. “But you’re not. You’re bleeding, and—and you could’ve—”

Her voice broke, and before I could stop myself, I reached for her.

“Hey,” I said softly, my good hand brushing her shoulder. “It’s okay. I’m okay. You’re okay.”

Her eyes filled with tears, and she shook her head. “No, it’s not okay, Stiles. None of this is okay. You could’ve died, and I—”

She stopped abruptly, her gaze dropping to the floor.

“And you what?” I asked, my heart pounding.

She didn’t answer at first. But then she looked up, and the raw emotion in her eyes made my breath catch.

“And I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Reader’s Perspective

The words hung between you, heavy and impossible to take back.

You hadn’t meant to say it—not like this, not with blood on his shirt and adrenaline still coursing through your veins. But it was the truth, and you couldn’t pretend otherwise anymore.

Stiles stared at you, his expression unreadable. “Y/N,” he said softly, his voice tinged with disbelief. “Do you mean that?”

You nodded, your throat tight. “I’m still mad at you,” you admitted, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “And I’m still scared. But… I care about you, Stiles. More than I want to admit.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. And then he stepped closer, his hand still resting gently on your shoulder.

“I care about you too,” he said, his voice steady despite the chaos around you. “So much it hurts. And I swear, Y/N, I’m going to do everything I can to keep you safe. From the Nogitsune, from everything. I promise.”

You believed him.

For the first time in weeks, you let yourself believe him.

And when he pulled you into a careful, hesitant embrace, you didn’t pull away.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Reader’s Perspective

The moment between you and Stiles in the hallway didn’t solve everything. It couldn’t—not with the Nogitsune still lurking inside him, waiting for a chance to strike.

But it was a start.

You walked with him to the parking lot that afternoon, his arm draped carefully over your shoulders as you supported his weight. He tried to shrug off the injury, brushing it off with his usual humor, but you weren’t having it.

“Stiles,” you said firmly as you helped him into the Jeep. “You need to get that stitched. No arguments.”

He grimaced but didn’t fight you.

By the time you reached Deaton’s clinic, your resolve had only hardened. If Stiles was going to keep throwing himself into danger, you’d make damn sure he didn’t do it alone.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Stiles’ Perspective

The clinic was quiet, the only sounds the soft hum of machinery and the occasional clink of Deaton’s tools as he worked. I sat on the exam table, biting the inside of my cheek as he cleaned and stitched the gash on my arm.

Y/N sat across the room, her arms crossed over her chest and a stubborn set to her jaw. She hadn’t said much since we arrived, but her presence was enough to keep me grounded.

“I’ll give you a moment,” Deaton said once he finished, his gaze lingering on me with quiet concern before he left the room.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Y/N stood and walked over to me.

“You’re reckless, you know that?” she said, her voice sharp but not unkind.

I winced, rubbing the back of my neck. “Yeah, I’ve heard that once or twice.”

“I’m serious, Stiles.” She stepped closer, her eyes searching mine. “You can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep putting yourself in danger like this. What if I hadn’t been there today? What if—”

“Hey.” I cut her off gently, reaching for her hand. “I’m okay. And you were there. That’s what matters.”

She shook her head, frustration flickering across her face. “It’s not enough. You can’t fight this thing alone.”

“I’m not alone,” I said quietly, squeezing her hand.

Her gaze softened, and she let out a shaky breath. “Then let me help you,” she said. “I don’t care what it takes. We’ll figure it out together.”

Something in my chest ached at her words, but I nodded. “Okay,” I said. “Together.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The first step was figuring out how to weaken the Nogitsune’s hold.

Scott and Lydia joined the effort the next day, meeting with you and Stiles at his house. The four of you huddled around the kitchen table, pouring over books and notes that Deaton had loaned you.

“Is there a way to keep it from taking control?” you asked, flipping through a weathered tome on Japanese mythology.

“It feeds on chaos, pain, and fear,” Lydia said, her voice calm and analytical. “If we can starve it, maybe we can weaken it.”

“Easier said than done,” Scott muttered, running a hand through his hair. “There’s no shortage of chaos in this town.”

“Then we keep it focused,” you said firmly. “If it wants chaos, we make it chase us. We keep it distracted while we figure out how to get rid of it.”

Stiles looked at you, his expression a mix of admiration and worry. “That’s risky,” he said.

“So is doing nothing,” you shot back.

He didn’t argue.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Reader’s Perspective

Over the next few days, you and Stiles fell into an uneasy routine. You stayed close to him whenever you could, your presence a steady anchor as he struggled to keep the Nogitsune at bay.

It wasn’t easy. The thing inside him didn’t like being ignored.

Late one night, you were sitting on his bed, helping him sort through Deaton’s notes, when he suddenly stiffened.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice tight.

You looked up, your stomach twisting at the sight of his clenched fists and the flicker of darkness in his eyes.

“It’s trying to take over,” he said through gritted teeth.

You moved without thinking, sliding off the bed and kneeling in front of him. “Stiles,” you said firmly, taking his hands in yours. “Look at me.”

He shook his head, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. “I can’t—I can’t stop it—”

“Yes, you can,” you said, your voice steady. “You’re stronger than it is, Stiles. You’ve proven that over and over again.”

His eyes met yours, and for a moment, the darkness receded. “What if I hurt you?” he whispered, his voice breaking.

“You won’t,” you said, squeezing his hands. “I trust you.”

The words seemed to ground him, and he let out a shaky breath, the tension in his body slowly easing.

“Thank you,” he said softly, his voice barely audible.

You gave him a small, reassuring smile. “We’ve got this,” you said. “Together.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Stiles’ Perspective

Y/N was saving me.

Every time I felt the Nogitsune clawing at the edges of my mind, she was there, pulling me back. She didn’t have to say much—sometimes just hearing her voice was enough.

But I couldn’t shake the fear that it wouldn’t last.

The Nogitsune was patient. It was always waiting, watching, biding its time. And I knew that one day, it would strike.

But until then, I had her.

And for now, that was enough.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Reader’s Perspective

By the time the confrontation was inevitable, the exhaustion had already settled deep into your bones.

The days leading up to it blurred together, a constant haze of sleepless nights, endless research, and fleeting moments of fear and hope. Stiles’ strength amazed you, even as it terrified you. He fought the Nogitsune with everything he had, but you could see the cracks forming—each flicker of darkness in his eyes lasting a little longer, his voice slipping into that sharp, mocking tone more often than before.

You couldn’t help but wonder how much time he had left.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Stiles’ Perspective

The Nogitsune was growing restless.

It had stopped whispering and started screaming, clawing at the edges of my mind like a caged animal. It wanted out. It wanted chaos.

And I could feel it getting stronger.

Every time I blacked out, I woke up with blood under my fingernails, bruises I couldn’t explain, and memories that didn’t belong to me. The others didn’t say it, but I knew they were scared.

I was scared, too.

But I didn’t tell them that.

Especially not Y/N.

She was already carrying so much—watching me like a hawk, staying up late to help with research, putting herself in danger just by being near me. I hated that she’d gotten dragged into this mess, but at the same time, I couldn’t imagine going through it without her.

She made me feel like me again, even when the Nogitsune tried to tell me I wasn’t.

And I wasn’t going to let it hurt her.

No matter what.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

It happened on a cold, moonless night.

You were at the animal clinic with Scott, Lydia, and Stiles, poring over Deaton’s latest notes. The idea was to lure the Nogitsune into a trap—a series of wards and ash barriers designed to weaken it enough for Lydia to use her banshee powers to sever its connection to Stiles’ mind.

But the Nogitsune had other plans.

One minute, Stiles was flipping through a book, his brow furrowed in concentration. The next, he froze, his entire body going rigid.

“Stiles?” you said, your voice sharp with concern.

He didn’t respond.

“Stiles,” Scott said, stepping closer.

And then he turned.

His eyes were darker than you’d ever seen them, his expression cold and twisted. When he smiled, it sent a chill down your spine.

“Well,” he said, his voice dripping with malice. “Isn’t this cozy?”

“Stiles, fight it,” you said, stepping forward despite the warning look Scott shot you.

“Oh, he’s fighting,” the Nogitsune said, tilting its head. “But not very hard. It’s amazing what a little despair can do to a person, isn’t it?”

“Let him go,” Scott growled, his hands clenching into fists.

The Nogitsune laughed, the sound sharp and cruel. “Let him go? Oh, Scott. You don’t seem to understand. He’s not yours to save.”

Before anyone could react, the Nogitsune’s gaze snapped to you.

“Ah, and here she is,” it said, its tone mocking. “The little spark keeping him tethered to reality. I wonder, what would happen if we snuffed it out?”

Your blood ran cold.

“Don’t,” Stiles’ voice broke through suddenly, strained and desperate. His body jerked like he was fighting against invisible chains, his hands clenching at his sides. “Don’t touch her.”

“Oh, but it’s so tempting,” the Nogitsune purred, its gaze locked on you. “She’s such a pretty little weakness, isn’t she?”

You didn’t move. You couldn’t. Your legs felt like stone, but your heart was racing, pounding so loudly you could barely think.

“You’re not going to hurt her,” Scott said, stepping in front of you. His voice was steady, but his claws were out, his body coiled to spring.

The Nogitsune smirked. “Perhaps not yet,” it said. “But it’s such a fun thought, isn’t it? Watching her break? Watching all of you break?”

“Not today,” Lydia said suddenly, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

The Nogitsune turned to her, its smile faltering slightly.

“Scott,” Lydia said, her gaze steady. “Get the ash.”

Scott moved quickly, his claws scraping the floor as he grabbed the container of mountain ash from the counter. He started spreading it in a circle, his movements precise and methodical.

The Nogitsune laughed again, but there was an edge of something else in its tone now—something that sounded like uncertainty.

“Oh, I see,” it said, stepping back as Scott worked. “You think this will stop me? You think he wants to be saved?”

“Stiles does,” you said, your voice steady despite the fear clawing at your chest. “You’re wrong about him. He’s stronger than you think.”

The Nogitsune’s eyes narrowed, its expression twisting into something ugly. “We’ll see about that,” it hissed.

And then it lunged.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Reader’s Perspective

You didn’t think. You didn’t have time.

The Nogitsune moved faster than you thought possible, its hand outstretched toward you like a claw. But before it could reach you, Stiles’ body jerked violently, his entire frame trembling.

“No!” he shouted, his voice raw and anguished.

The Nogitsune froze, its grip on Stiles slipping as he forced himself back. His eyes flickered, the darkness in them receding as his hands shot out to grab yours.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice trembling. “I—I can’t hold it much longer. You have to finish this. You have to—”

“Stiles, I’m not leaving you,” you said firmly, gripping his hands tightly.

“You won’t have to,” Lydia said suddenly. She stepped forward, her eyes bright with determination as she let out a piercing scream that reverberated through the room.

The Nogitsune roared, its grip on Stiles breaking entirely as Lydia’s scream grew louder, sharper. Scott finished the circle of ash, and the Nogitsune stumbled, its movements erratic and uncoordinated.

“Now!” Lydia shouted.

Stiles collapsed to his knees, his hands clutching yours as the Nogitsune’s shadowy form was ripped from his body. It howled in rage, thrashing against the barrier of ash as Lydia’s voice carried it farther and farther away.

And then, suddenly, it was gone.

The silence that followed was deafening.

“Stiles,” you whispered, kneeling beside him. “Are you—”

“I’m okay,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I’m okay.”

You wrapped your arms around him, holding him tightly as he buried his face in your shoulder. For the first time in weeks, you felt like you could finally breathe.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The days following the Nogitsune’s defeat were eerily quiet.

The chaos it had left behind—the broken trust, the physical and emotional scars—was still present, hanging in the air like smoke after a fire. You didn’t think you’d ever forget the sound of Stiles screaming, or the cold, mocking tone the Nogitsune used when it spoke through him.

But you also couldn’t forget the way he fought. The way he clawed his way back to you, holding on with everything he had until the Nogitsune was ripped from his body.

Now, you found yourself sitting next to him on the steps of the Stilinski house, your shoulder brushing against his as the early evening sun dipped below the horizon.

Neither of you had said much since you arrived, and the silence between you was heavy but not uncomfortable.

“Y/N,” he said finally, breaking the stillness.

You turned to look at him, your heart squeezing at the vulnerability in his expression. His hands were clasped tightly in his lap, his thumbs nervously fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Stiles—”

“No, let me say this,” he interrupted, his eyes meeting yours. “I need to say it.”

You nodded, letting him continue.

“I hurt you,” he said, his voice trembling slightly. “Even if it wasn’t me doing it, it still happened. And you were right to be scared. I was scared, too. But you… you didn’t give up on me. You stayed, even when you didn’t have to. And I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you enough for that.”

You felt your throat tighten, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. “Stiles, I stayed because I knew it wasn’t you. I knew you were still in there, fighting. And I—”

You stopped, the words catching in your throat.

He tilted his head, his eyes softening. “You what?” he asked gently.

You hesitated for only a moment before taking a deep breath. “I care about you, Stiles. I think I always have, even before all of this. And seeing you like that, knowing what you were going through… it scared me because I couldn’t imagine losing you.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, his expression unreadable. Then, without warning, he reached out and took your hand in his, his grip warm and steady.

“You won’t lose me,” he said firmly. “I promise. No more Nogitsune, no more chaos. Just… me. If you’ll still have me.”

You let out a shaky laugh, a tear slipping down your cheek as you nodded. “Of course I will,” you said, your voice breaking slightly.

His lips curved into a small, hesitant smile. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Stiles’ Perspective

I couldn’t stop looking at her.

The way the setting sun painted her features in soft golden light, the way her eyes shimmered with unshed tears but still held so much strength. She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, and for some reason I still couldn’t quite wrap my head around, she’d chosen to stay.

The Nogitsune was gone, but its shadow lingered. There were nights when I woke up gasping for air, the memory of its voice ringing in my ears. Nights when I thought about what could’ve happened if Y/N hadn’t been there—if she hadn’t held onto me when I needed it most.

She saved me.

And I was going to spend the rest of my life making sure she knew how much that meant to me.

“You’re staring,” she said, a teasing smile tugging at her lips.

“Sorry,” I said sheepishly, though I didn’t look away. “I’m just… I don’t know. Grateful, I guess.”

“Grateful?” she echoed, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” I said, squeezing her hand. “Grateful that you’re here. That I’m here. That we’re… okay.”

Her expression softened, and she leaned her head against my shoulder. “We are okay,” she said quietly.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, I believed her.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Reader’s Perspective

The nightmares didn’t go away right away.

There were nights when you woke up in a cold sweat, the memory of the Nogitsune’s cruel smile etched into your mind. But those nights became fewer and farther between, especially with Stiles by your side.

He still had his own demons to fight, but you fought them together. On the bad days, you reminded him that he wasn’t alone. And on the good days, he reminded you why you stayed.

One afternoon, as you sat on the bleachers after practice, he handed you a familiar cup of hot chocolate.

“From the place by the field,” he said with a small smile.

You took it, your chest tightening as the memory of that day flashed through your mind. “Thanks,” you said softly.

He sat down beside you, his knee brushing against yours. For a moment, neither of you spoke, content to just sit in the quiet.

Then he glanced at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “So,” he said, “does this mean we’re officially chemistry partners for life?”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “I think we’ve earned that title,” you said.

“Good,” he said, his smile widening. “Because I don’t plan on letting you go anytime soon.”

You didn’t plan on letting him go, either.

No matter what came next, you knew you’d face it together.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Epilogue:

Reader’s Perspective

Months passed, and the scars the Nogitsune left behind—both visible and invisible—began to fade. Life didn’t return to normal, exactly. Beacon Hills had a way of making “normal” feel like a foreign concept. But you and Stiles built something new, something stronger than the chaos that had tried to break you.

Your relationship wasn’t perfect. There were moments of doubt, of fear, when you both struggled to fully trust that the darkness was gone for good. But every time, Stiles would reach for your hand, grounding you both in a way that words couldn’t.

“Together,” he’d remind you, and you’d nod, letting his warmth chase away the lingering shadows.

One Saturday afternoon, you sat with Stiles in his Jeep, parked at the overlook just outside of town. It had become your unofficial spot—a place to escape when things got overwhelming.

“Okay,” Stiles said, breaking the comfortable silence. “Picture this: aliens invade Beacon Hills, right? But instead of fighting, they challenge us to a trivia contest. What’s the one fact you’d bet your life on?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “That’s the dumbest scenario I’ve ever heard.”

“Come on,” he said, nudging you with his elbow. “What’s your go-to fun fact?”

You thought for a moment, tapping your chin dramatically. “Okay. Did you know octopuses have three hearts, and two of them stop beating when they swim?”

His jaw dropped in mock amazement. “What? No way. That’s so unfair. Humans only get one, and half the time it’s broken.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the smile tugging at your lips. “What about you? What’s your big trivia fact?”

He grinned. “Easy. Did you know that my girlfriend is the smartest, most badass person in Beacon Hills?”

You groaned, shoving his shoulder playfully. “That’s not a real fact!”

“It’s real to me,” he said, his grin softening into something sweeter.

You looked at him, your heart swelling at the sight of his easy smile. He was lighter now, freer. The weight he’d carried for so long seemed to have lifted, and seeing him like this made everything you’d been through feel worth it.

“You’re impossible,” you said, shaking your head.

“And you love me anyway,” he shot back, leaning closer.

“Yeah,” you admitted, your voice soft. “I do.”

His expression shifted, his eyes searching yours like he was trying to memorize every detail. “Good,” he said quietly. “Because I love you, too.”

You didn’t need any more words.

Leaning in, you pressed your lips to his, your hand sliding to the back of his neck as his arms wrapped around you. The kiss was slow and steady, filled with all the things you didn’t know how to say.

When you finally pulled back, your foreheads rested together, both of you smiling like fools.

“Together?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Always,” you replied.

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting the town in shades of gold and orange. For the first time in a long time, the future didn’t feel so uncertain.

Whatever came next, you knew you’d face it side by side.

[dfortrafalgar]

I'm Losing You... (But We're Filling the Cracks)

Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem. But sometimes, you just need a little bit of love... and a little bit of science.

Warnings: read chapter 1 for warnings.

Taglist: @phsycochan | @mirillua | @augustanna | @chaixsherlock | @whore-of-many-hot-men | @nerdisthenewcool | @lilypadmomentum

Chapter 25

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The shock did not go away.  If anything, it packed its bags and moved into your home.

You stood in front of the mirror in your bathroom dressed in only your bra and underwear.  Law stood behind you, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest.  The air in the room was stifling as you gazed at the bump that had already started showing in your belly.

You had an approximate due date.  May 22nd.

You were officially, according to your implantation date and calculations done by Robin, on your ninth week of pregnancy.  Your hCG levels in each blood test had increased as expected, and your babies had heartbeats.

Your babies.  Plural.

Your symptoms were exacerbated by the fact that you had not one, but two embryos inside you.  Breast tenderness, backaches, nausea, dizziness, the whole nine yards.

Though, if you were being fair to yourself, your dizziness could easily have been a side effect of being labeled as ‘extremely high risk.’  Due to your history, and now due to being pregnant with multiples, you were given strict instructions to be much more present at your doctor’s office.  You were given prenatal vitamins to begin taking daily every single morning.  You were given foods to avoid in order to lower your risk of developing gestational diabetes.  You were also given foods more encouraged to eat.  Raise your blood iron.  Raise your sodium, but not too much.  Eat an increase of around 1000 calories a day to support the growth of two placentas and two babies.  Watch out for spotting, bleeding, pelvic pain, irregular bowel movements.  Watch out for headaches and weight gain or discolored urine, you might die.  Keep an eye on your mental health, what stresses you, stresses the babies.  But mostly, be excited!

Yeah, right.

Your hand traced the small bump in your belly.

“You know…” you began, making Law perk his head up to listen to you.  “I always thought that seeing a baby bump would be the most exciting moment of my life… but I’ve never been more scared.  Ever.”

Law approached you from behind, wrapping his hands around your bare waist and resting his chin on the crown of your head.  His scent enveloped you like a blanket, instantly warming your skin and calming your heightened nerves.  One of his hands traveled down the skin of your abdomen, resting on top of where yours lay above your uterus.

“I can’t lie to you… I am, too,” he added, his voice heavy with thought.

“Am I a bad person for not being excited?” you asked, your voice surprisingly stable despite the racing heart in your chest.  “I mean, I am excited.  So far their hearts are still beating… but…”

“You’re not a bad person at all,” replied your husband, planting a kiss to the back of your head.  “It’s perfectly rational that you feel scared.”

“Terrified…” you clarified for the both of you.  “I feel terrified.”

You and Law made eye contact in the mirror.  The way he had his arms wrapped around you reminded you of a security blanket given to trauma victims in an ambulance.  The thought made a wry smile break out onto your lips, making your husband cock an eyebrow.

“What’s got you smiling all of a sudden?” he asked with a slight upward turn to the corner of his mouth.

You mustered out a dry chuckle.  “You’re my trauma victim security blanket.”

The randomness of your sentence made Law’s shoulders bounce slightly as he laughed, holding you closer to him.  “I know it’s really hard for you to do so, but I think we should both try as hard as we can to think positively.  It’ll probably be healthier for you.”

You looked up at him, a smirk dancing over your face.  “That sounds crazy coming from you.”

You yelped in surprise as Law scooped you into his arms and carried you to your shared bedroom before plopping you down on your mattress, him sprawling out beside you.  “What was that for?”

“So you wouldn’t stress yourself out in the mirror,” he replied, his voice hoarse yet tender as he stared at you from his pillow.  “I’m being serious, though.  I know the stakes are high, but there’s gotta be things we can think about to prevent you from getting stressed.”

You turned your body to lay on your back, lacing your hand with his as you stared at your ceiling.  “Any examples?”

Law hummed in thought, glancing around the room.  His eyes landed on your framed, signed Sora poster.  The frame had a very small crack in it from being moved out of your sophomore year dorm room, but the poster inside was still in perfect condition.  “Think about our kids watching Sora.  Maybe we can dress them up as Sora and Stealth Black for Halloween.”

The tender thought almost immediately made you smile.  Your mind flooded with even more thoughts of Law as a dad, tailoring Halloween costumes for his kids and making them feel perfect.  Your thoughts of Law with one baby had now evolved into thoughts of him with two, rocking two armfuls of swaddled infants to sleep, kissing their little foreheads, pushing them in a double stroller.  Your eyes began to well with tears which you quickly blinked away, choosing instead to push yourself up and roll over, hooking one of your legs in between Law’s and laying across his chest.  His arms instinctively wrapped around your waist, tracing invisible patterns into the skin of your back.

“I get really happy thinking about you as a dad,” you sighed.  “You’re gonna be so amazing.”

Law chuckled, his chest rumbling.  “That’s the kind of positivity I’m talking about.”

You giggled.  “I mean it, though.  Remember before we got married and you said you were so scared to have kids one day?  Because you didn’t want them to go through what we had?”

His face fell slightly, recalling the memory.  He was still in the middle of his residency program, and you were jumping job to job with random, unstable freelance gigs.  It wasn’t the instability of your lives that made him weary, however.  Rather, it was the looming anxiety that everything good in Law’s life would someday be snatched away from him.  And that had happened to you, twice.

But when he stepped back and thought about the broader picture, it got easier for him to see clearly.  How you put up with his shitty attitude when you first met.  How quickly you opened yourself up to him, exposing your deepest fears and troubles and being patient with him when he struggled to reveal his own worries to you.  How you told him you loved him after only five months, terrified that you were going to scare him off, and all he could do in response was give you the most awkward, inexperienced kiss you had probably ever received.  And you stayed by his side even when it took him almost a full year to say those three little words back.

You brushed your fingers along Law’s cheek, tracing the soft hair of his sideburns before hooking around his head and burying into the fluffy black wisps behind his ear.  You pressed a smattering of kisses across his jaw and cheekbones, over his nose and finally on his lips.  “When I think about positive things, I think of you.”

Law’s lips broke into a wide smile, the kind of smile he only ever showed you.  The kind of smile that wrinkled the skin around his eyes and revealed the single small dimple he had on his right cheek.

A sudden ringing from his phone on the bedside table startled the two of you out of your lovestruck daze.  With a grumble, he reached over and grabbed the device, you rolling off of him and sitting criss-cross on your side of the bed.  He tapped the answer button and pressed the phone to his ear.  You could just barely make out the words spoken on the other end.  After a brief goodbye, Law hung up the call and uttered a heavy sigh before standing up and grabbing his uniform coat.

“Emergency surgery?” you asked.  You were only slightly disappointed with the interruption of your intimate moment, but it was nothing you weren’t already used to.

He nodded with a frown before walking back over to you and stealing a quick kiss from your lips.  “Patient just came into the ED with a STEMI.  I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Don’t worry about me, go save the world,” you said with a smile.  He tossed you a somber grin as he stepped into his shoes, grabbed his work bag, and booked it out the door.  Living two minutes away from the hospital by car definitely had its perks.

You were surrounded by silence in your apartment when the front door was closed behind your husband.  With a sigh, you stood from the bed and paced toward Law’s wardrobe, opening the bottom drawer and pulling out one of his old sweatshirts.  It had a custom design on the front of it, one that he also had tattooed on his back.  His living situation after he lost his biological family wasn’t ideal, but the little ways he held onto the memory of his adoptive father always brought a smile to your face.  You pulled the hoodie over you, taking off your bra underneath it and throwing it onto the end of your mattress, tiredly rubbing your sore breasts underneath the soft cotton of his shirt.  You turned around to face the rest of your bedroom.

The pregnancy journal that you barely started writing in was placed on top of Law’s desk.  With a deep breath, you grabbed the book, a pen, and a roll of white-out tape and proceeded to your couch in the living room.

You smiled at the sight of Bepo, stomach completely upward facing and paws outstretched as he snoozed away on his dog bed.  You had a feeling Bepo was going to be an absolutely incredible big brother.

You leaned against a pillow rested along the arm of the couch and propped up your knees to place the book on your thighs.  You finally mustered up your anxieties and opened the cover.

“Nothing but positivity,” you muttered to yourself.  You uncapped the pen and started writing.

[howl224tgeundying]

Salt repels demons, this is why the FDA and other "health" organizations are trying to push for less sodium in your diet, they're ironically demonizing salt when for millennia all spiritual knowledge knows that it repels bad spirits/demons (regardless of religion, belief or region of the world).

Processed sugar on the other hand, attracts demons, it's the bastardized version of salt. It's white granules, but instead of being beneficial and essential to life (like salt) it destroys teeth, makes you fat and many other negative effects on health.

Natural sugars like those found in fruits and honey have been shown to be different than processed sugars, these can be good, especially honey which has healing properties (in moderation of course).

But this is why salt was demonized and sugars have been put into everything, all drinks, food, fucking pasta sauce, and it's addictive as all hell. When you look at countries like Japan or Korea that have extremely high sodium intake (from many fermented sauces) you see that they actually have low rates of obesity and heart disease. It's almost impossible to have too much salt as you will just pee out any excess, so stay hydrated and aside from drinking hyper salinated water, you literally can't overdose on salt. Meanwhile countries with high rates of sugar consumption, you see high rates of obesity and heart disease, like in America where sugar is even in the bread. Not to mention diabetes and other numerous health detriments are either brought on entirely or exacerbated by excess sugar intake.

[breelandwalker]

Going to preface this by saying that this is something that has helped ME, MYSELF, AS A SINGULAR PERSON, and is not meant to be a blanket recommendation or a broader truth or any kind of medical advice. I am also not looking for advice of any kind.

I have a hard time finding the mental and physical spoons to exercise. I have a day job that requires me to be sedentary, a side hustle that requires a lot of mental energy, and way too much housework and home repair stuff to deal with. All this plus ADHD. Between the battle with executive dysfunction and the energy needed to get through all my Have-To's, adding one more thing to my weekly routine or making time to go to the gym is just not an option.

But at the same time, I've got 40,000 miles on this chassis and a history of health problems in the family, so I need to be taking care of myself.

So what I've started doing is adding little bodyweight exercises to my day while I'm at work. If I'm sitting, it's arm circles or leg raises a few times an hour. If I get up for something, it's squats or wall presses. If it's lunchtime, it's a lap around the building. All stuff that gets me moving, engages muscles that aren't getting used enough, and can be done quickly more or less anywhere.

I've managed to turn this into a habit using an app, alongside reducing the sodium in my diet and eating more fruit, and I'm starting to feel less tired and more limber. I still have trouble with fatigue sometimes, but this routine change does seem to be sticking, which is a big win for me. Plus I don't have to waste money on gym fees and then feel bad when I'm too tired to actually go and use the equipment.

It's no picnic hitting your forties and realizing you have to start paying serious attention to all your bits and bobs because the warranty is DEFINITELY expired by now and you can't just ignore your blood pressure anymore, especially because three bouts of COVID have done a number on your heart and lungs. While I'm not going to turn into a fitness model or pick up jogging anytime soon, it sure was nice to go to a LARP event and not feel winded after combat.

Turning 40 ain't easy. But it damn sure beats the alternative.

[volivolition]

Yo, what's your favourite moment/line from Disco Elysium?

VERY DIFFICULT QUESTION HKJHG <3 off the top of my head, favorite moment is shooting down the hanged man and aces high/low :] it's just such a win... very celebratory moment with kim!!

if i had to pick a line, it would be "I NEED YOU. YOU CAN KEEP ME ON THIS EARTH. BE VIGILANT. I LOVE YOU." it's just such a classic. the line of all time, shivers my everything!!! LA REVACHOLIERE MY EVERYTHING!! if i had to choose, its this one :3

anyway, here's a list of voli's poignant quotes :]

"This is somewhere to be. This is all you have, but it's still something. Streets and sodium lights. The sky, the world. You're still alive."

"The road to healing is going to be a long one. Stay the course. You will make it, some day."

"Subdue the regret. Dust yourself off, proceed. You’ll get it in the next life, where you don’t make mistakes. Do what you can with this one, while you’re alive.”

"I know there's not much to say -- but if nothing else, just remember that you've made it this far. And it's just a bit farther now. Let's finish this."

"No. You can stop. Just wade through the hell. Month after month. Year after year -- you against the nothingness. It's possible, because time is possible.

"No. Not a disaster. Weave this into the story of you. Walk out of its ruins. Save those who still can be saved -- I'm on your side."

also all of the skills break my heart in some way for the final dream scene, but volition's is my header for a reason </3

"I can't help you. I am totally useless. Everything I've said is lies. I want the exact same bad things you want. To stand here, like a pillar of salt, saying…"

^ guy who fucking breaks my heart :'] he tries so hard to be strong, to keep your morale and willpower up, but god he is not infallible. for him to admit this. ough... my heart. i love this guy.

i do have other favorite quotes!! Half Light's "You are the first crack in the sheer face of god." and Esprit's "If an assault were launched on this building right now — if the windows came crashing down and the whole world descended upon you — this man would hurl himself in death's way to save you" and Kim's "Every school of thought and government has failed in this city, but I love it nonetheless. It belongs to me as much as it belongs to you." and i also love the silly quotes too and ough. game that is mostly words having a lot of good quotes? who would have guessed!! but yes, the ultimate fave would be the first shivers quote <3

[winke77e]

Good Intentions?

So my mom asked me an interesting question: "Don't you ever feel like an asshole when you think you're correcting people? Especially if the thing they believe makes them happy?"

In this conversation specifically, about science and health facts, my answer is "No."

I don't feel like I'm being an asshole when I tell you the thing you believe about a health fact is wrong. I feel like I'm helping you learn the correct way to keep yourself healthy. I know I might sound like an ass, and be perceived as an ass, but I know your intentions are good, you might just be understanding 'the thing' wrong and I want to help you actually be safe.

For context: My mom has a fear of having a heart attack or stroke, but she doesn't talk to doctors or health professionals about staying healthy or safe. Instead she found this "Influencer" who gives "health advice", but this person has also been banned from Australia because their 'advice' was so wrong, it threatened peoples' health. My mom thinks eating excessive amounts of Celtic Salt will provide her with minerals that will boost her health, and EVERY TIME we talk about her salt, I tell her that she's eating so much sodium, those minerals mean nothing.

I know that often, people feel like they're being insulted when someone corrects something they say, but that's not always the case. In the above situation, I correct mom's misinformation because I know the thing she is doing, is going to greatly increase the chances of her experience the thing she's trying to avoid. I'm not mean about it, just persistent. I don't tell her she's stupid or anything. I don't really tell her "you're wrong". I remind her of a health fact she used to know as true, but has since been convinced to forget it?

I did tell her, when she asked why I keep talking about it, that "you might be lucky and nothing will happen, in which case I'm just annoying and we cannot have a good conversation about salt with each other. But a majority of cases show, the excessive amount of salt people eat can lead to greater risk of stroke or heart attack. And if you are unlucky and have an event, don't be surprised if the doctor talks to you about your salt."

I've been corrected too, but I've always thought it of someone trying to teach me something. And sometimes what they say is wrong, but I appreciate their attempt to help me. They state their case, I state mine, then I move on to another topic that we don't disagree on, but sometimes something they say has me questioning, and then I get to do more research :D

There's another guy at the homeless shelter who is giving me advice on how to start my own business. I cannot talk health facts with him because he believes changing his body's PH balance will protect him from cancer and that the oncoming eclipse is caused by excessive amounts of chemicals the government is exposing us to. He speaks so often and with so much confidence and authority, that I still feel bad voicing any opposing opinions. But I still try, sometimes.

( other side note, as a presenting woman, anything I do is often brushed aside as me "being a bitch", so very often anything I say or do is dismissed or taken with skepticism. Occasionally, I do find someone who is interested in learning and we ask questions together and do research and have good fun :) )

What do you guys think? I genuinely want to know your stance on correcting people or being corrected.

[darkmaga-returns]

How Bad Behavior and Big Government Caused a Trillion-Dollar Crisis

NE - Naked Emperor Newsletter

Nov 12, 2024

Remember to add your book recommendations in the comments below.

Today’s book is:

Make America Healthy Again: How Bad Behavior and Big Government Caused a Trillion-Dollar Crisis by Nicole Saphier

If Americans want to know why their health care is so costly and getting costlier, they need only look in the mirror.

Americans are notoriously unhealthy—we eat too much, drink too much, and sit too much. When roughly 80 percent of cardiovascular disease and 40 percent of all cancer cases could be prevented by simple lifestyle changes, it is time to take a deeper look at the problem and ask who is truly responsible. Consider that:

·         After seventy years of innovation, heart disease and cancer remain the top two causes of death in the United States.

·         In 1960, health care spending was 5 percent of America's GDP; today, it is 17.5 percent.

·         The government spends over $1 trillion annually on health care.

·         Nearly one in five American deaths is associated with poor diets.

·        Simply reducing sodium intake by 1,200 mg per day could save up to $20 billion a year in medical costs.

In Make America Healthy Again, Nicole Saphier, a Memorial Sloan Kettering physician, nationally recognized patient advocate, and media personality, reveals how individual negligence and big government incompetence have destroyed America’s health care system. Combining historical events, economic trends, and essential lifestyle advice, with her unique perspective, she offers concrete solutions to address this epic problem.

We don’t need socialized medicine—we need to take better care of ourselves. By getting healthier and adopting preventative measures, Saphier believes, we can reduce the astronomical costs of treatment and improve overall care. The only way to lower medical costs for everyone is to stop incentivizing bad health decisions. Policies such as the Affordable Care Act and single-payer plans ignore something crucial to lowering the overall financial burden: personal responsibility. We can no longer expect doctors and the government to fix illnesses we have the power to prevent. Regardless of which health policy is adopted, our nation will flounder unless we take action. It is up to the American people to make America healthy again.

You can buy the book here (Amazon link).

[tea-with-evan-and-me]

after i was diagnosed with diverticulitis i slowly started to change my diet. now, eating primarily whole foods isn’t always exciting but boy do you feel the difference and i lost 20 pounds in two months 🤦🏻‍♀️

Holy moly admin, I’m sorry 😥 I had to read up on that, it sounds painful. I’m glad you were able to turn your diet around and found a way to stick to it, getting older and the harsh effects that come with it is no joke. The way my metabolism changed between my 20s and 30s is such a kick in my ass. If I don’t do something active every day and even think about a chocolate shake or chicken strips and fries my ass automatically jiggles for like 2 weeks 😭

What are some main staples in your whole food diet? Like do you avoid carbs altogether or just certain ones at certain times? I find that if I don’t eat carbs (flour products, bread, potatoes, rice, pasta and corn), added sugars, processed food, dairy, grains, legumes, alcohol or oils (cooking and all fat oils and butter) 3 consecutive days each week, my cravings for the bad stuff becomes less, my inflammation goes away and I can drop at least 2 pounds a week and that’s without any working out, plus I quit caffeine period. *I’m not a nutritionist or diet expert* It is easy to maintain and each week gets easier if you stick to it, but obviously I’m human so this is not something I do all the time for weeks at a time. I’m a foodie at heart and if I want loaded nachos with a steak and bang bang shrimp on the side, I’m a do it 🤣 especially around that time of the month….but that’s when I’ll up the weight and reps in my workouts too.

you're right, i swear i turned 25 and all of a sudden shit got real 😂 i know exactly what you mean though.. nowadays i have been trying to do at least 10k steps every day (walking or jogging) and weight lift 3/week. 2022-2023 was challenging health wise for a variety of reasons and i felt like a big change was needed. ended up having surgery for my endometriosis/an ovarian mass and promptly put on a medication that basically was like a taste of menopause.. hot flashes, joint pain, insomnia, nauseous all the time.. i'm just now coming off of it and i tell you that shit made it so hard to lose weight lmao i'm hoping things will be stable off of it.

everything you said makes perfect sense to me! the longer i go without eating ultra-processed/hyperpalatable foods in general, the easier it gets and the less i crave them. this year i actually ended up buying and participating in a medical weight loss plan because i NEEDED for someone to.. basically just tell me what to eat. i wasn't technically overweight - i know how to eat low calorie and i know how to lose weight if i need to, but not in a healthy way at all. that really was what changed for me, taking their little nutritional class and receiving a meal plan with tons of details about the different groups and how much to eat each day. i realized i was eating so much MORE food - my meal plan was more than i could even manage most days, and yet i lost weight, like now i look like a different person.. it's crazy. i realize i'm sensitive to sodium and i was really inflamed, even in my face, looking back it was so pronounced. on my meal plan, i couldn't add any salt to my food, only salt free seasonings. so that was a big thing lol to answer your question about staples, it's a little tricky.. i haven't banned carbs at all, but i have reduced them a bit. for instance, i'll still have rice, but i will do 1/4 of a cup or 1/2 cup and load up on veggies. nowadays i just eat the live carb smart bread and buns. potatoes are my FAVORITE, so i just try and eat a bit less of them, corn as well. the tricky part about trying to eat as many whole food meals as possible, is that i don't want to cook a meal every single night. i'm big on meal prepping, but i don't really like to eat microwaved food. i feel like it makes food taste weird, ESPECIALLY chicken, which happens to be my general protein of choice. so i've been eating a lot of beef, eggs and cottage cheese for protein. i love vegetables so there's countless options to add in my rotation. i'm very much still learning what works for me, and like you, i'm a foodie who loves to eat. i'm never going to be someone made miserable trying to stick to a very strict diet. i want to enjoy those delicious nachos every once in a while too LMFAO

[dasenergi]

Mountains or seaside?

Coffee or tea?

Robots or aliens?

Too hot or too cold?

Early bird or night owl?

Thin crust or thick?

Sun or moon?

Thank you for asking, friend.

Mountains or seaside? I live in southern California, all of our beaches are hot and crowded. I'd much rather spend time in the mountains, cooler, quieter, surrounded by trees. I can feel my stress and anxiety dissipating, just by thinking about the trees.

Coffee or tea? Tea. Although I don't drink either any more. I went through a phase where I drank nothing but iced tea because I thought it was good for me. Nope! It dehydrated me and I ended up with bad vertigo for weeks. Now I just drink water.

Robots or aliens? Aliens. I am a believer who has had my own experiences, and has gone to several UFO/UAP conferences in Joshua Tree. I have also attended an Alien Abductee Survivor meeting, hearing their harrowing stories. Their experiences and trauma is heartbreaking. They weren't lies / stories - they were the 100% truth. I am a believer. Also, aliens figure prominently in a book I wrote.

Too hot or too cold? I hate the winter. Hell is ice cold to me. The cold is painful! I'm a summer boy. I love being out in my pool swimming every day. I'd rather feel oppressive heat than bone-chilling cold. But with all that said, to answer your question, in the summer I am too hot and in the winter I am too cold.

Early bird or night owl? I wake up every morning at 5am whether I want to or not. My bedroom has French doors that open to my backyard. I enjoy opening them when it's dark outside and the world is quiet and still. That's my favorite time of day. I get my best meditations when the world is still dark and quiet.

Thin crust or thick? Thin, simply because I am aways watching what I eat. If I could eat anything and not have to worry about my health, I'd love to dip some pizza crust into melted butter or ranch dressing. But alas, I like to feel comfortable in my clothes. Also, heart disease runs in my family. So I keep an eye on carbohydrates, fat, and sodium.

Sun or moon? The moon. It's cool and magical and beautiful. I keep an eye on her every day. The sun is so harsh you can't even look at it without blinding yourself. Also, it causes cancer and will eventually destroy the Earth. But the moon? The moon is my lover. We have had many intimate times together.

Thanks again, friend! I appreciate your Ask.

[unskilledpoint]

What death causes the most frequent nightmares?

Surgical tools are fucked up. Dentistry tools moreso. Which makes sense. Flesh and muscle are hardy. Teeth are as strong as bones. Stronger actually, due to the lack of living material within. One would need quite sharp tools to operate with. Hence the fucked up-ness of dentistry tools. But a person can do a lot more than dentistry with them y'know!

It especially helps when one is under a decent dosage of tetrodotoxin, often sourced from pufferfish. By blocking the transfer of sodium ions between cells it causes paralysis in the muscles.

Not exactly something you wanna be under whilst being wheeled off on a stretcher into a killer dentist's office.

The first thing you see is the white. The glaring, harsh and cold white. It's almost blinding, really. You count the tiles in the ceiling. 48. You count the teeth in your jaw. 32.

Sterile. You can smell the cleanliness. The rubber cuts through the air, a sickeningly blunt smell. Bubblegum. From the mouthwash used. Kids mouthwash.

The lights. Have I mentioned the lights? The bright white lights glare down from bright white ceilings in a bright white room so sterile it smells of death.

The chair is hard. A bit of stuffing pokes out of the cold blue faux leather. You try to poke it in. No use. Tetrodotoxin, remember? You can't move.

The lights flicker a little. The metallic hum in the background continues unwaveringly. You never forget that buzz, not once, not ever. The buzz is everywhere. You hear it all the time. In your room, the forest, someone else's house. A reminder your always an inch away from death.

Of course, it's also a reminder that there's been worse. Later on, you'll say, hey. This is bad, but at least I'm not there again!

But now isn't later on. Now you're here. And here you hear the clinking of metal. Some plastic crinkles. Dentist tools poking through their wrapper.

Your breathing gets heavier, ever so slightly. You can feel the way your hearts beats in your chest, pumping blood, in perfect rhythm with the pounding of your ears.

You lie to yourself. This is fine. This will be okay. This iss just like your normal deaths.

You're good at lying. See? You've even fooled yourself.

For a second, anyways. You're good at detecting lies too. Then the sounds of blood return.

Rubber gloves. You can taste it. The cold metallic buzz is in your mouth. And pliers. Held by a slightly shaky hand.

You're scared now. Terrified.

Crunch. It's sickening how fast that was.

Time passes by. The metallic taste gets stronger. You're choking on it. You don't know where your teeth went. Something red spills. A welcome difference from the artificial blues and whites.

The corners of your vision are red. Red like that liquid.

Some moments later, you wake up in your bed wondering how much was real.

You check the ceiling. Wood. You can't count those. You check your teeth. 32. Sharp as ever.

You're shaking. Why? It was just a dream. Pathetic.

And then you decide it's not worth it to go back to sleep.

Of couuuuuuuurse, some of that iiiiiiiis probably a lie! Maybe. Probably. Yes.

Aaaaaaaanyways, hope that settles your question!

[ataleoftwopitties]

These past few years, I have become a huge advocate for feeding fresh food to dogs to enhance their lives. However, you don't exactly have to transition your dog to a 100% fresh food diet in order to gain the benefits of fresh food.

Simply adding fresh food to your dog's kibble can go a long way in improving their nutrition and overall health. For instance, one study done a group of dogs in 2005 revealed that feeding vegetables just three times a week had significantly lowered their risk of developing cancer, compared to dogs who were only fed kibble.

Asian markets, in particular, have some very beneficial fresh food items that aren't typically found at your local grocery store. These food items, however, are not intended to fully replace your dog's food. Remember - too much of something good can be bad for you.

Instead, they should be offered in moderation as treats, or just small amounts topped over an already complete and balance meal. As a general rule of thumb, treats/toppers should never make more than 10% of your dog's overall diet.

Bok choy (Chinese cabbage) is full of essential vitamins and minerals needed to support a dog’s eyesight, cardiac function, digestion, bone strength, and immunity. Sulfurophane - a compound found in bok choy and other cruciferous vegetables - has been linked to inhibiting cancer cell growth, lowering blood pressure, and activating the nuclear factor Nrf2 which prevents the development of diabetes and its complications. Bok choy’s low calorie, high fiber content also make it a good option for a snack/food topper for dogs who need to control their weight. 

Preparation: Lightly steam or boil for better nutrient absorption. Cooking will also help neutralize the enzyme (myrosinase) that can decrease thyroid function. You should also chop/trim their long leaves to avoid choking hazards.

Goji berries (wolfberries) are rich in amino acids, carotenoids which support healthy vision, and polyphenols that have anti-inflammatory, anti-tumor, and cardio-protective properties. Studies on goji berry supplementation in animals have shown that it has the potential to help lower cholesterol, protect the liver by increasing hepatic antioxidant activity, as well as enhance metabolic homeostasis and prevent diabetes-induced renal inflammation. 

Preparation: Remove stems if still attached and cut/mash berries. If dried, soak in water until softened to avoid passing straight through the GI tract and losing the benefits of its nutrients. 

Offal refers to the internal organs and variety meats of animals that can be consumed as food (i.e. lung, heart, kidney, liver, gizzard, head, feet, etc.) The word 'offal' literally translates to "fall off", and thus, whatever falls off the skeleton during the butchering process. Offal is densely loaded with essential vitamins, minerals, proteins, and fats - so small amounts go a long way. Pet owners who use these as ingredients as part of a complete and balanced recipe should keep in mind that each organ is unique in its nutrient profile - dependent on the animal it is sourced from and how it is raised. For example, grass-fed beef may contain less fat yet more vitamin A and E than grain-fed beef, and beef liver has significantly more vitamin A and copper than chicken liver.

Preparation: Boil in water or low-sodium broth. May also be baked or dehydrated into jerky treats.

Oyster mushrooms are a good source of protein and fiber, and vitamins that support healthy digestion. They can help to increase satiety and maintain healthy body weight. Oyster mushrooms are also full of pantothenic acid which help to maintain cognitive function and healthy skin/coat. Beta-glucans derived from oyster mushrooms have also been shown to reduce inflammation and strengthen immunity. 

Preparation: Lightly sauté or boil in water or low-sodium broth. Raw or dried mushrooms can be difficult for dogs to digest. 

Purple sweet potato (Ube or Okinawan sweet potato) are typically found in grocery stores more commonly during the fall/winter seasons. They contain more antioxidants than regular sweet potatoes due to the anthocyanins that cause their violet hue. While all potato varieties may impact blood sugar levels because of their high carbohydrate content, purple potatoes may exert less of an effect because of their high polyphenol content that decreases the absorption of starches in the intestines. In addition, they have been linked to improving blood pressure, likely due to their high potassium content. 

Preparation: Peel skin and bake until soft for better digestibility and to prevent intestinal blockages. May be boiled and drained to reduce oxalate intake for dogs with a history of bladder stones, or prone to urinary issues. 

Quail eggs are small, yet packed with protein and essential fatty acids, and have a higher ratio of iron, riboflavin, and vitamin b12 than chicken eggs. It is even safe and can be beneficial to feed them with the shells included for added calcium. Quail eggs have been linked to improving bone growth/healing, reducing liver damage, and increasing energy levels. While some studies have shown evidence of quail eggs treating allergies in humans and mice, they may be less likely to trigger reactions than chicken eggs in dogs who have poultry sensitivities.

Preparation: Wash thoroughly, and handle gently as they are more fragile due to their tiny size. Cooking methods are similar to that of chicken eggs, yet require less time. 

Sardines contain all the amino acids your dog needs for optimal health, making it a "complete protein". They are also notorious for being rich in omegas and coenzyme q-10, which help support heart and brain health. What sets sardines apart from other fish, too, is that they are smaller and more short-lived species than larger predator fish and may have less of a risk for mercury poisoning. Because they are so small and have soft bones, you can feed them whole to your pets.

Preparation: Bake or dehydrate. If already purchased as dried, be sure to make sure there is no added salt or seasonings. If canned, preferably those stored in water only.

Sushi rice (Japanese sticky rice) has a high proportion of starch and moisture, giving it a stickier texture when cooked. Sushi rice has virtually zero fat, yet still provides a desirable balance of nutrients while remaining gentle on a dog’s digestive tract. Its higher iron content than regular rice supports healthy blood circulation and can provide more energy to dogs who are recovering from illness. Cooling/refrigerating the rice before serving also enables more retrogradation of prebiotic fiber, helping to lower glycemic responses and maximize intestinal function.

Preparation: Rinse thoroughly and soak in water (with 1tbsp apple cider vinegar - optional) before cooking. If you don’t have a rice cooker or instant pot, boil on the stove until the water is completely absorbed. May be cooked with bone broth for added flavor. You can also use small amounts of beet root powder, turmeric, or blue spirulina to add color and nutrients.

[magnificentsapcaddy]

The only April Fool here this year is me, because I made the Soup of March, Carolinian Clam Chowder, on the 27th, and then I didn't make a post for the rest of the month.

I'll get ahead of this - Ohio is not a seabound state. We have Lake Erie and the Ohio River, and majestic though they may be, there is a dearth of fresh seafood in the cornfield regions of the state. So, in classic pig American tradition, this is a "dump a bunch of cans of crap into a pot" recipe. I would maybe go as far as to say that this is Ohioan Carolinian Clam Chowder, as not to get beat with hammers when I go to the Outer Banks. This would undoubtedly be better with fresh ingredients, but as the French say, "sail a V" or something.

For the recipe, click on the readmore below!

First things first, what makes this Carolinian Clam Chowder? Imagine a Punnet square, with the axes being "cream/no cream" and "tomato/no tomato". New England Clam Chowder is cream, no tomato. Manhattan Clam Chowder is cream and tomato. Carolinian Clam Chowder is no cream, tomato. What chowder lies in the no cream, no tomato quadrant? Who nose.......

INGREDIENTS

- 1/3 rib of celery - 1 medium carrot - 1/2 medium onion - 1 tbsp butter - 1 medium can of diced tomatoes (low sodium, if possible) - 1 medium can of diced potatoes - 1 small can of corn - 10 oz can of whole baby clams - 8 oz clam juice - 1 tbsp black pepper - 1 tsp red pepper flakes - 1 cube chicken stock - 1 1/2 cups water

DIRECTIONS

Melt your butter in your pot (most recipes I saw called for bacon fat instead, much like the česnečka recipe from January. I was too tired to go through that work, but seeing how this turned out -maybe consider doing that! It would make for a thicker, richer broth). Coarsely chop your celery. Mince your onion. Cut your carrot in half lengthwise and chop each half into 1/2-inch thick chunks. Put the vegetables in the pot and let cook until the onions begin to clear and the mixture is aromatic.

Add the clam juice, the can of clams (with their juice), the can of tomatoes (with their juice), the can of potatoes (drained) and the can of corn (drained). Add spices, stock, and water. As an aside - if I was making this with more effort, I would have gotten real potatoes and actually diced them and cooked them with the vegetables in step one.

Let cook until the broth has reduced by at least 1/2 cup and the celery is tender and has lost its crunchiness - this should take 35 minutes, with 20 minutes covered and 15 minutes uncovered. Serve hot. IF SO DESRIED: take 4 or 5 Ritz Crackers and coarsely crumble them over the soup for added texture and flavor.

So, at this point, we now engage in the moratorium of the recipe.

This wasn't bad. Well, hold on. I don't know. Like I said, I cut a lot of corners here. I firmly believe this would have been good if I hunkered down and did everything the right way. But, if you can't do it right, do it scared, you know? Don't die wondering!

I don't know. I don't want to make these soup posts double as therapy posts, but March was a really rough month for me, and it got to a point where, genuinely, the main thing keeping me going was the idea of making this soup, because my mom was talking it up for a while. By the time I made it, though, even though it was the main thing I had to look forward to, I just didn't have the wherewithal to fry the bacon, drain part of the fat and reserve the rest, dice the potatoes, cook them beforehand, fry them, deglaze the pot... so, as I said, I engaged in the traditional pig American activity of dumping a bunch of canned stuff in there.

The canned stuff is not bad. I don't know. I don't want to get philosophical, but I feel like this one kind of sums up the month I had. You can't get fresh clams here. You don't have the energy to do it the way the recipes tell you. But, you make do! Wal-Mart sells clam juice! We have a can of diced potatoes! You can substitute butter for lard! Is it what you really wanted, in your heart of hearts? No. But it's a warm meal, and it tastes alright, and that's what keeps you going. This is not the last time you will ever cook. You can do it again, correctly. Later. Now, you do what you can, and you know it's good enough.

All that is to say: soup's fine. The first bowl I had, I hadn't let it reduce properly and didn't add the stock, and I let it get cold and the last few bites just tasted like cold fishwater. It was better after sitting a day and also reducing and seasoning it right. I'd definitely recommend the Ritz Cracker thing, but I know that the clash of textures isn't for everyone

[jeanjauthor]

...My household is awkward, regarding sodium. My sister has a low sodium diet for her heart issues. My mother gets charlie horse cramps from eating low sodium meals. And I get double the cramping issues due to ciprofloxacin destroying my body's ability to retain magnesium, sometimes calcium, a little bit of potassium, and very very much sodium.

I supplement with magnesium citrate for the first one (if you get the right formulation, it uptakes so perfectly, it also manages my neuropathy issues, yay!), eat a fair bit of dairy for the second, just eat more leafy greens & brassicas for the third...and I have literal salt in a shaker at my headboard in case I get a debilitating cramp in the night, a salt shaker at my desk for the same reason, and I carry those little paper packets of salt in case i get a cramp just walking around like a normal human being. (Or at least politely pretending to be one, *shhh*)

When I had my last surgery, I had to fast for a full 12+ hours before hand, so I warned the staff that they'd want to start an i.v. on me with saline right away, because otherwise I'd end up cramping so bad, I couldn't walk. Thankfully they were going to give me some anyway, so I had no issues leaving.

Unfortunately, I can't say the same for what happened when I first went to the E.R. with a too-rapid heartbeat, a couple months before the surgery. They didn't give me any water and didn't give me anything salty, no i.v. fluids...and my legs cramped up so bad when it was time for me to leave, the nurse wanted to know if I needed a wheelchair. I just told her I needed salt and water. She couldn't get me the salt, but she did get me the water, and I got myself a salt packet out of my wallet to consume with said water.

It took about five, ten minutes to fix my issues, then I could walk. (And yes, I made sure I had my magnesium & a multivitamin with the other two electrolytes when I got home, plus NUUN, an electrolyte drink that uses stevia for a sweetener instead of sugar.)

When you are electrolyte deficient, it's important to replenish...but did you know what sodium does, as an electrolyte?

Sodium literally opens and closes the pores in your cell walls. Your cells cannot get water or nutrition without sodium. It is the gatekeepr for cells to function, opening & closing the door for anything being delivered or expelled.

You don't need super much, but it is literally vital for life as we know it to exist.

So when OP & the other commenters talk about feeling like they're "coming back to life"...

They are telling the absolute truth.

We had a patient last night who was a textbook case of electrolytes imbalance as a result of nausea and vomiting. And I didn’t say this to the patient because I didn’t think they’d appreciate it, but it’s kinda great when the way you are so so sick is like exactly like the textbooks say it’ll be. Like not good that you’re having sudden new onset muscle weakness and tingling, but buddy this is gonna get sorted out with an efficiency you won’t believe. We fixed like 85% of the stuff wrong with this patient by midnight and we marveled the whole time about how this patient was seemingly concocted in a lab so I could walk my trainee through a highly manageable crisis

[drgyana]

The Link Between Hydration and Heart Health: How Much Water Do You Really Need?

Most people know that drinking water is essential for overall health, but did you know that staying hydrated is directly linked to heart health? Your heart works around the clock to pump blood, and water plays a key role in keeping it functioning properly.

When your body is dehydrated, your heart has to work harder, which can increase the risk of high blood pressure, irregular heart rhythms, and even heart disease over time. So, how much water do you really need, and how can you make hydration a habit? Let’s break it down.

1. Why Hydration Matters for Your Heart

Your heart is responsible for circulating blood, delivering oxygen, and maintaining overall stability in your body. Water supports these functions in several ways:

✔ Regulates Blood Pressure – When you are dehydrated, your blood becomes thicker, making it harder for the heart to pump. This can lead to high blood pressure over time. ✔ Prevents Heart Strain – Dehydration forces the heart to beat faster to compensate for low blood volume, leading to extra stress on the cardiovascular system. ✔ Supports Proper Circulation – Water helps transport nutrients and oxygen through the blood, keeping organs, including the heart, functioning efficiently.

A well-hydrated body keeps the heart working smoothly and reduces unnecessary strain.

2. How Much Water Should You Drink?

There’s no one-size-fits-all answer, but general guidelines suggest:

💧 Men – About 3.7 liters (or 13 cups) per day 💧 Women – About 2.7 liters (or 9 cups) per day

However, these numbers can vary depending on: ✔ Activity Level – If you exercise or sweat a lot, you need more water. ✔ Climate – Hot and humid weather increases fluid loss, so hydration needs go up. ✔ Health Conditions – Some conditions, like kidney disease or heart failure, may require controlled water intake, so it’s always best to check with a doctor.

If you’re unsure about your hydration levels, consulting a top 10 cardiologist in Bhubaneswar can help assess your heart’s needs.

3. Signs You’re Not Drinking Enough Water

Dehydration isn’t always obvious. Your body gives subtle signs when it needs more water, including:

❌ Dry mouth and bad breath – Saliva production decreases, leading to bacterial buildup. ❌ Fatigue and dizziness – Your body struggles to circulate oxygen efficiently. ❌ Dark yellow urine – A clear or light yellow color is a sign of proper hydration. ❌ Rapid heartbeat – The heart beats faster to make up for lower blood volume. ❌ Swelling in feet or ankles – Fluid retention can happen when the body is trying to hold onto water.

Ignoring these signs can put unnecessary stress on your heart, leading to long-term complications.

4. The Best Ways to Stay Hydrated

Drinking plain water is the simplest way to stay hydrated, but you can also increase fluid intake through food and smart habits.

Easy Ways to Improve Hydration

✔ Start Your Day with Water – Before coffee or tea, drink a glass of water to rehydrate after sleep. ✔ Eat Water-Rich Foods – Cucumbers, oranges, watermelon, and celery are great sources of hydration. ✔ Carry a Water Bottle – Keeping water nearby reminds you to drink regularly. ✔ Set Reminders – Phone alarms or hydration apps can help build the habit. ✔ Drink Herbal Teas – These count toward daily fluid intake and add extra health benefits.

Making hydration a daily habit is one of the easiest ways to support your heart without much effort.

5. Can You Drink Too Much Water?

While rare, overhydration can happen if you drink excessive amounts of water too quickly. This can dilute important minerals in the blood, causing a condition called hyponatremia (low sodium levels).

Symptoms include: ❌ Nausea ❌ Confusion ❌ Headaches ❌ Swelling in hands and feet

For most people, sticking to thirst cues and moderate water intake is perfectly safe. However, if you have a medical condition that affects fluid balance, it’s best to follow a doctor’s advice.

6. The Role of a Cardiologist in Hydration and Heart Health

If you have a history of high blood pressure, heart disease, or circulation problems, hydration plays an even bigger role in your daily routine. Drinking enough water can help regulate blood pressure, prevent clotting, and reduce the risk of heart-related complications.If you’re concerned about your heart health, visiting a top 10 cardiologist in Bhubaneswar can provide valuable insights. A professional can assess hydration levels, check heart function, and offer guidance on the best habits for long-term heart health.