#anxiety induced pills to help you get work done

[suntann]

i hate how so much of adhd management tips are like "here are some ways to maintain your focus and get things done on time!!: [anxiety inducing tactic] [anxiety inducing tactic] [anxiety inducing tactic] [anxiety inducing tactic] [anxiety inducing tactic]"

[littlewalken]

aug 30

Fuck that was an autistic melt down yesterday and it might still be lingering. Now I would like to thank everyone who humiliated and punished me for having them when I was young while I stab them and cry in their stab wounds because it would have been nice to learn how to manage them a hell of a lot sooner.

For everyone who doesn't have ticky tocky autism one thing I can suggest is planning how to mitigate your melt downs. It does work to figure out why you're having it, as well as building up tolerances where you can to mild triggers, and what you might be able to do yourself to help figure things out.

There is a sense of pride in being able to move the peas and rice apart yourself.

Autistic melt downs aren't supposed to make sense. And while there can be reasonable accommodations for everyone they also shouldn't be in a Zoe and Rocko situation where the little bitch uses the threat of a temper tantrum to get her way. Especially looking at the giant man baby "autistics" who were coddled too much.

Yeah, I think it was Film Theory that brought up that Zoe's shit on Sesame Street with Rocko is about controlling and even humiliating Elmo and the adults need to step up and adult around her. She's a 10 year old at Sephora in the making.

Did read thru what I would consider the cringiest of my Smallville stories last night and... One plot point has to go to where the Phantom Zone sends shit it doesn't want. It reeks of someone speed rushing the reloading of their operating system that had been reset barely a decade before. I'm the same age as super Tom if that helps.

Short of figuring out a different plot point what I could do is post a sort of Swiss cheese fic where there are holes for another writer to fill in. There's only one little part that even with Tumblr being how it is bothers me but it's too connected to a bigger part that in hindsight doesn't make story sense.

***

I think the only thing more anxiety inducing about going to the dentist to get something done is like going back to have it redone. I know what's going to happen, how long it should take, and how long I expect to be in recovery for it.

So tomorrow at least will probably be given over to a migraine and a Pain Away pill.

[genericstrip123]

Aerobic Exercise Has Health Advantages

The autonomic nervous system depends on breathing in large part for aerobic. Your breathing is under your power. Using the changes in your breathing, influence other parts of the body.

Before turning in for sleep, try some breathing aerobic exercises. Using Cenforce 150 will help you avoid erection problems.

The Sleeping Effects of Aerobic Exercise

Sometimes you fall asleep right before you strike the sack at night. Many times, you go sleepless for several reasons. You go to sleep most of the time stressed or anxious.

You work the entire day. Your mind, therefore, becomes stressed and anxious. Anxiety prevents you from getting sound sleep.

You should teach your mind to avoid anxiety when you sleep. Anxiety causes disturbance in sleep. Sometimes you flip and turn all night.

Have you considered doing breathing exercises before turning in for sleep?

Breathing exercises really affect your sleep in a big way. The correct breathing techniques help you reduce anxiety.

The tight breathing exercises enable easy drifting. One of the many health advantages of breathing through your mouth and nose is

Aerobic Exercise: Mental Health Advantages

Furthermore beneficial for many psychological and mental health aspects are aerobic and respiratory workouts. It increases the oxygen availability to the brain neurons.

This can set off the oxytocin and adrenaline hormone flow, thereby guaranteeing that you are in a happy state of mind and absorbing all the negative aspects of your life away.

Benefits to your cardiac health of doing aerobic exercises

Your heart will benefit greatly from any basic aerobic exercise.

Several serious cardiac problems can be avoided in great part with these easy breathing exercises.

Studies even indicate that performing cardiac exercises tends to help individuals avoid problems with high blood pressure or hypertension.

Aerobic Exercises Help You Maintain Circadian Rhythm and Sleep

Just hours before sleep, a good idea is to do some aerobic activity and breathing exercises. Studies reveal that this approach helps you to get considerably calmer and sounder sleep at night, therefore preventing the events and symptoms of different sleep disorders.

9 Breathing Aerobic Exercises: Their advantages

1) Diaphragmatic breathing:

One further name for deep breathing is diaphragmatic breathing. It entails the diaphragm working and deep, leisurely breathing.

Most people who breathe from the chest raise their blood pressure. Diaphragmatic breathing sets off the body’s relaxed reaction. Your heart rate slows down with it.

Your blood pressure should be normal; you should avoid anxiousness then. This breathing practice can be done by those with different sleep disorders. Those with chronic medical conditions have choices, including diaphragmatic breathing.

This guarantees appropriate blood flow to your body as well, much as Fildena 150 pills guarantee increased blood flow and induce an erection.

2) 4-7-8 breathing:

This breathing method draws on pranayama. Doing this breathing technique helps you reduce tension and anxiety. Practicing this breathing method helps you fall asleep quickly.

Many studies show that 4-7-8 breathing techniques provide fast relief from anxiety.

With this activity, you can help your heart rate be better and normalize your blood pressure. You can still do this breathing exercise even if you are not sleep-deprived.

3) Breathing via boxes:

You have to inhale, hold your breath, and then exhale once more.

Holding your breath for a bit helps your body release relaxing signals. Diaphragmatic breathing and box breathing have an intimate relationship.

4) Breathing in Pace:

Spend six minutes slowing down your breath. Increase your expensive time. You should exhale more than in your inhalations.

Try timed breathing to help you sleep. Also, slow breathing will help your body initiate the relaxation reaction.

Slow breathing before bed helps lower sleep latency. You hardly wake up numerous times throughout sleep.

5) Deep breathing:

You must truly inhale in deep breaths. One does not have to pay particular attention to inhaling and exhaling. You should thus concentrate on your breathing.

Deep breathing exercises help you to reduce tension and release your body. This useful activity increases natural hormones as well. You thus find yourself fast falling asleep.

6) Psychological Sighing:

One further name for psychological sighing is cyclic sighing. This breathing method consists of two inhales combined with a protracted expiration.

You sigh naturally to eliminate too much carbon dioxide from your body. You know that sighing aids in relaxation?

This breathing technique helps you control your tension and raises your mood. Using psychological sighs, slow down your breathing rate. This activity helps to lower stress and anxiety.

7) Mouth taping:

You sleep with a tiny piece of tape over your lips. Your body learns to breathe through your nose. Many people injure their health by breathing through their mouths.

Exercise, including mouth taping, does not let your mouth open throughout the night. You can therefore breathe from your nose. A few weeks will you realize you can breathe through your nose.

8)  Nasal breathing:

With nasal breathing, lower your chance of snoring and sleep apnea. Simultaneously, this breathing method helps to reduce anxiety.

Studies of nasal breathing exercise find that it enhances the quality of sleep. Besides this exercise, I have sleeping medications from Genericstrip Pharmacy.

9) Coherent Breathing:

In coherent breathing, you inhale five to six times every minute. This breathing method produces quite outstanding effects.

With coherent exercise, lower lung dead space and raise heart rate. Use coherent breathing to help control anxious symptoms.

Last words

Aerobic exercise and breathing seem to offer our bodies several health advantages.

If you are aware of your health, spending some time for these activities at any handy moment of the day is not a bad idea after all.

[the-cult-of-russo]

Biggest regret (part 3)

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

A/N: So many of you guys love this story and I love it. Thank you guys 😊

So this one really went off on a tangent and it's longer than I thought. But I didn't wanna rush this and I'm enjoying this story. So he doesn't meet his kid yet, that's in the next part that I'm writing right now. Then there will be another part that I've got in mind too.

Warnings: cursing, angst, sadness, fluff kinda, emotional Billy.

-----------

Delilah cooed happily where she was perched in a little rocker seat. It was vibrant pinks and yellows with a bar along the top and little stuffed animal shapes dangling off it that she swatted with her chubby hands. 

You were cleaning. Stress cleaning to be precise. Ever since you got that letter from Billy you'd felt out of sorts. You really hadn't expected it. You'd spent the better half of the start of your pregnancy thinking he'd come to his senses. That he'd turn up and say sorry or even call or text. But by the end of the pregnancy you realised you'd asked too much of him. That maybe you didn't know him as well as you thought. 

It had been a bitter pill to swallow having him just walk out of your lives like that. Your pregnancy hadn't been easy by any means and that only made it harder. You had no family, no real friends. You'd been completely alone. Every time you ended up at hospital the nurses took pity on you. Seeing you so sick with no visitors or help. It had been hard. 

Since Delilah could return home, one of your neighbours in your complex had taken to helping you. Louise was a woman in her 60s and before now you'd only ever seen her in passing with a murmured hello. But seeing you struggle as a single mother, she'd taken you under her wing and helped you immensely. 

You had to work from home since you had the baby. The time off with unpaid maternity leave when she was born and was sick had set you back quite a bit and now you were struggling. You'd had to leave your job since there was no way you could do it from home and you didn't have child care or the money to do it. And honestly, after having Delilah, the overwhelming urge to keep her safe was shocking. You didn't really want to leave her with someone you didn't know. It had been hard for you to agree to it with Louise who would occasionally have her for an hour or two so you could catch a break. And she was literally only next door which eased your mind a little. 

Now you were doing proofreading and transcription work from home and it didn't exactly pay great. You got by though and you made do with what you had. You just didn't expect things to go this way. You still remember when you found out you were pregnant and told Billy. It had been a huge shock to you and despite the nagging feeling that this was how it would end, you stupidly hoped it would be different. 

~

You sat on the bed, the test in your hands as the two pink lines glared at you. You were pregnant. You had a baby in your belly. You felt like you couldn't breathe. You and Billy weren't even super serious. There were feelings involved but neither of you mentioned it. Opting instead to pretend they weren't there. You were scared if you told him you loved him that he'd run for the hills and he was scared of feeling anything at all. 

You'd been 'together' for nearly two years. You weren't officially boyfriend and girlfriend, there were no labels slapped on you both. But everyone knew you were his and he was yours and it worked just fine. But now there was a baby. Now things got serious way quicker than you expected and you were terrified. 

You weren't ready to be a mom. You'd never put much thought into having kids and you didn't know how to be a mother. You'd have a tiny human that depended on you to keep them safe and loved. How the fuck would you manage that? And then there was Billy. You'd have to tell him and you felt sick with worry about how he would react. 

You knew about his childhood, you knew pretty much everything about each other. He'd never known love as a child and you hoped that would mean it would force him to want to be there and be a good dad. But you knew him well enough to have the worry that it would have the opposite effect and he'd freak out. 

He'd been at work and you'd been at his place. You didn't live with him, you still had your own place. But you stayed there most nights or he would be at yours. You never spent a night away from each other. 

You heard the front door open and close and you felt a wave of dread settle over you. Like an ice cold blanket snaking around your entire body as it squeezed. You had to tell him. You had to hope he would be okay with this. You knew you'd keep the baby regardless. Despite only knowing for literal minutes, you cared about this baby. This baby was a piece of you and a piece of Billy. There was no way you couldn't keep them.

"Hey, sweetheart! I'm home!" You heard him call from the living room. You swallowed thickly as you stood on shaky legs, stuffing the test in the pocket of your hoodie. You made your way to the living room as he shucked off his jacket. He looked handsome as always and he flashed you a warm smile when he saw you. But it fell when he took in your anxiety induced state.

"What's wrong?" He asked carefully, black eyes scanning over you like he was checking if you were hurt. Your throat tightened as you felt your eyes prickle and you willed the tears away. 

"Uh… you should sit down. We need to talk," you murmured softly. He frowned, tilting his head as he regarded you.

"Sounds ominous," he replied dryly. He complied though and moved to sit on the sofa. You opted to stay standing near the coffee table.

Your whole body felt like it was shaking and you felt in your bones that this was the moment where everything would change. Either for better or worse, but change was coming and it hurt your heart. You needed to just tell him, get it over with. You inhaled a shaky breath as you looked at him. His face was etched in concern and he was patient with you, watching all the emotions pass over your face.

"I'm pregnant," you blurted, grabbing the test from your pocket and handing it to him. His eyes almost popped out of his head and he grabbed the test, staring at it. You couldn't get a good read on his face other than the surprise and you didn't like that. He was staring at it hard and you knew he was deep in thought. That cold dread came back and sunk its claws into you. 

Suddenly, he tossed the test on the coffee table, springing out of his seat and moving around to the back of the couch like he wanted to get far away from you.

"No," he frowned. You blinked dumbly at him for a moment as your eyes burned.

"No?" You asked softly. His dark eyes pinned you in place then. For a brief moment you saw utter pain and complete panic, eyes glassy with unshed tears. But then all emotion left his face, left his eyes, and it felt like a punch to the gut. You'd seen that look on his face before but never directed at you. 

"I'm not… I can't do this. I don't want a kid," he said coldly. The lump in your throat got bigger as you nodded. What else could you say? You could cry and scream and fight but what was the use? Part of you expected this although you hoped for something else. You couldn't force him to stick around. If he wanted out then you had no choice but to let him. 

You felt tears slip down your face as you glared at the floor, lower lip quivering. You couldn't look at him. The pain you felt was unbearable. Pain for yourself for losing him, pain at how cold he was being, and pain for your baby for having a dad that didn't want them. Did Billy even realise he was continuing the cycle of his own upbringing? 

You felt his eyes burning into you but you couldn't look. You had so many things you wanted to say but they all caught on the lump in your throat. Without a word, he grabbed his jacket and left, slamming his door behind him so loud you jumped. You sobbed then, moving to curl up on the sofa as you let it all out. He was gone. You'd have to do this all alone and you missed him already despite him leaving you like this. 

You were unsure of how long you lay on his sofa sobbing your heart out until your phone chimed with a message. Stupidly you thought it was Billy saying sorry. It was Billy, but he definitely wasn't apologising.

'I'll be back in two hours. Pack all your shit and be gone before I get home. Don't contact me again.' 

You felt a surge of anger and bitterness seep into you then. You thought he'd cared. Never had he told you how he felt about you but he acted like he cared. Introduced you to the Castle's, his family. But clearly you were wrong. His message was loud and clear. You didn't respond, there was no need. He wanted to never hear from you again and that was fine. You packed anything of yours and left within an hour, your heart heavy with pain, hurt and anger. 

~

When you got his letter, at first you were angry. You wanted to be petty. Wanted to ignore it or send him one back telling him to go fuck himself. But you'd looked at your daughter then with her sweet smile and her dad's eyes and you couldn't. Because despite what he'd done, she deserved her dad. 

You hadn't responded to the letter right away. Two weeks you kept reading it and coming to terms with all the emotions it brought you. You knew you still cared about him even after what he'd done. You couldn't help it. But his letter sounded so sincere and the self loathing in his words tugged at your heart. He'd fucked up big time, but he was trying to fix it. Billy was a proud man and you knew it took him a lot to reach out to you. You wanted Delilah to get to know her dad and wanted her to have a relationship with him. 

You had a lot to work through and you and Billy would need some serious talks to be able to co-parent properly, but you'd do it for Delilah. There wasn't a thing in the world you wouldn't do for that girl. 

So you'd replied and now you've been waiting for his call. You were full of nerves and you could taste the emotions lingering from the day he left in the back of your throat. You felt like you were in some kind of limbo. 

After stress cleaning for a bit and looking after Delilah, you sat on the sofa with the TV on low as she snoozed in her little seat. You felt lucky she was such a chill baby. The pregnancy and birth had been harder to deal with and you thought having her would be difficult but it hadn't been that hard for you. Louise kept telling you that you had natural maternal instincts and that you'd picked it up easily. 

You tried to pay attention to the screen when your phone buzzed from your pocket. Your heart skipped a beat as you got it out. It was a number you didn't recognise and your breath started coming in shorter because you knew just who it would be.

"Hello?" Your voice shook a little as you answered and you heard a soft sigh on the other end. 

"Hey, Y/N, it's Billy," his voice was smooth like always but it sounded off. A little raw. 

"You got my letter then," you murmured. You rolled your eyes at yourself for stating the obvious but you didn't know what else to say. Never had it been so stilted and awkward to talk to Billy. 

"Yeah… and I know you asked me to really think about it, so I did. And I wanna be there. I'd like to… I'd like to meet her if I can," he sounded apprehensive and you wondered if he thought that you'd reject him even after telling him in the letter you wanted them to meet. 

"Okay… I'd like to meet up with you first. We have a lot to talk about that needs dealing with before you meet her," you said firmly. This you wouldn't budge on. There was a lot of unresolved tension and feelings around you both and one quick meeting with him wouldn't fix that, but you wanted to clear some air before he came to meet Delilah so it wasn't completely tense. You also wanted to make sure he really was 100% with this or you wouldn't allow it to happen. You wouldn't let her get hurt. 

"Yeah, I'll do… anything you need. Whatever you want," he answered quickly. You nodded even though he couldn't see it, happy that he wasn't fighting you on it. He seemed like he genuinely wanted to take this seriously which was good.

"Right… uh… I can… I can meet you today. The diner down the street from my place? About 6pm?" You asked softly. You heard him sniffle a bit down the phone and you started to wonder if he'd come up with an excuse about work. You knew he worked late a lot. 

"Yeah, that's fine. I'll be there," he said resolutely. This was a good start already.

"I'll see you then, bye Billy," you murmured. 

"Bye, Y/N," he replied softly. You hung up and blew out a breath, your shaking hands gripping your phone. You hadn't heard his voice in over a year and it had your heart hammering away against your ribcage. You still loved him but the love was tainted with pain and betrayal. You'd have to stuff it down for the sake of your daughter. 

You didn't bother to change out of your jeans, boots, tee and hoodie and after asking Louise if she could look after Delilah for a bit, you set off out. You'd told Louise everything. She already knew what happened with Billy and you'd even let her read his letter. While she wasn't happy he'd walked away in the first place, she was happy he was trying to step up now. You were glad she was supporting you with this. 

You got to the diner five minutes early and fully expected to have to wait. But when you got inside, Billy was already sitting in a booth. He looked shit scared and his fingers drummed on the table restlessly. As you approached, his head snapped up. So many emotions crossed his face as he looked at you that you couldn't keep up with them. But when it settled on heartbreak you felt your own squeeze painfully in your chest. 

He stood up as you got to the table and there was an awkward moment where you both looked at each other. He looked tired. He had dark rings around his eyes and his usually perfect hair was a little dishevelled. He had on casual clothes and his leather jacket. He took a step closer like he was going to hug you and you stepped back without thinking. His face fell a little and he nodded, the movement stiff but he seemed to understand you weren't ready for it. 

He moved to sit down and you sat opposite him. It was so tense you could cut the air with a knife and you didn't even know where to start. The waitress came over then and gave you both a bright smile and you both ordered coffee. Once she was gone the tense atmosphere was back.

"I'm sorry," Billy muttered brokenly. Your eyes looked up at him then and he was staring at you with shiny eyes. Your throat constricted and you cleared it.

"Billy-" you started with a frown. He cut you off though.

"I know… I know I'm the biggest asshole out there. I don't deserve you sittin' here or givin' me a chance. But I want you to know that… I thought about you and the baby… Delilah… every damn day. And I-I hated myself for walkin' away. And I can't take back what did, but I can be better. I want to be better. And I'm sorry I hurt you and I'm sorry I left. But I'm serious when I say I wanna be here. You said I'm in or out and I want in. And I swear, I fuckin' swear that I'll prove to you I'm a better man," he said imploringly, leaning his forearms on the table as he watched you. 

You blinked at him, collecting your emotions as the waitress came over with the coffees. She didn't linger, sensing the heaviness of whatever was happening in your booth. 

"I'm glad you're here, Billy. And it's gonna take work for us to… to be okay around each other. But Delilah is the focus here and you deserve to have a relationship with her. You're her dad," you said softly. He sneered, not at you but himself, as he shook his head.

"No… no I'm not. I haven't been there. Sure she's mine, my DNA, my blood, but… I walked out. I left you, I left her and you both needed me. I'm not a dad, not yet. But I'll do whatever it takes to show you I'm worthy of bein' her dad," his voice shook yet was also firm and you knew in your heart he meant his words. It settled you a bit to know he really was serious about this. 

"I'll be honest… part of me expected to come here and you wouldn't be ready. That you were talking shit for whatever reason. But I believe you. I wish it hadn't taken this long but I'm glad you're here now, Billy. It's been… so fucking hard doing this alone," your hands were around your cup and you stared at them as you spoke, your voice quiet among the light buzz in the diner. 

You heard his breathing hitch and looked at him again. His fists were clenched and his head was lowered which made it hard to read his face. His whole body was tense and you were about to open your mouth to ask if he was okay when you noticed his shoulders shaking slightly. Oh. 

He sucked in a breath as a broken sob left his lips and it ripped a hole right through your chest. Now matter what he'd done, seeing him this way was jarring. You'd seen many sides to Mr Billy Russo and you'd even seen him cry before. But he looked so worn down and broken and it hurt you even if it was his own fault. 

His elbows resting on the table, he brought his hands up and rested his head on them as he openly sobbed. You never thought you'd see the day that Lieutenant Russo cried in a public space but he seemed beyond caring. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you stood and moved to his side. You slid into the booth next to him as your own eyes welled up and you reached out a shaky hand to stroke the back of his neck. He tensed at first like he hadn't even noticed you'd moved which was startling given how perceptive he was about everything around him. But then he relaxed and moved his face from his hands and turned to look at you. Tears were streaming down his face and he looked younger and vulnerable. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck and he didn't hesitate to bury his face in your neck as his own arms held you tightly. You stroked his hair softly, trying to soothe him a little. You couldn't help it. Maybe it was that maternal instinct that always hated when someone was upset around you or maybe it was just the fact that no matter what happened, you did still care.

"It's okay, Billy," you whispered through your own tears. He shook his head where it was still pressed against your now damp neck.

"No it's not. I fucked up. I shoulda been there," his voice was muffled and broken with his soft sobs that were slowly easing and you held him a little tighter. 

"You did fuck up but you're here now and that's what matters," you murmured. You pulled away and he let you go reluctantly as he sniffled and looked down. You reached up and wiped his cheeks with your hoodie sleeves and then he looked at you. 

"We can't change the past, Billy. Yeah, you messed up, and yeah it hurt me. But you already missed out on so much and that's a punishment in itself. Things aren't gonna be easy and it'll take time for us to heal, but you're here now and Delilah needs you. That's what matters," you uttered, hands falling from his face. 

He sniffled again as he nodded, his obsidian gaze searching your face like he was looking for something. 

"I don't… I don't have the words because thank you doesn't even come close. I don't deserve this. I don't deserve you helpin' me out and I don't deserve Delilah. I didn't really think I'd hear from you and now here you are, fuckin' comforting me in a diner when it should be the other way around," he lamented with a frown. 

"I don't like seeing you cry," you shrugged with a weak smile as your hands toyed with the sleeves of your hoodie. He gave you a small smile back as he nodded. A silence settled over you both then and it was slightly awkward. You knew he was probably embarrassed and also still beating himself up. Once upon a time you'd be glad to know how hard he was being on himself over this. But seeing him like this was painful. 

There were still a lot of things to sort through with the pair of you but they weren't the priority. The first and most important thing was him establishing a relationship with his daughter. You figured in time things would get easier with him and he seemed dead set on being here now. And you could see the genuine remorse for walking away so you knew he was serious. 

"I should go. But uh…" you murmured as you stood from the booth, Billy following suit. 

"You can… you can meet her tomorrow if you'd like? I could… I don't know, make dinner for us all? You could come by my place and meet her before dinner?" You suggested, voice laced with uncertainty. His face lit up then even with his slightly damp cheeks and shiny eyes. His smile was bright even if it was hesitant. 

"I'd really like that," he nodded as he gazed down at you. 

"Okay… good. Uh… come by around 5?" It still felt awkward between you and you hated it. It used to be so easy between the two of you. 

 "I will… thank you, Y/N," he murmured sincerely. You nodded and gave him a little smile. He stepped forward and this time you didn't step back. The hug didn't last long but it took you back to a time when things were good with the pair of you. Where you felt safe in his strong arms surrounded by his calming scent. It sent a pang through your chest. You hugged him back before he moved away and you gave him another nod before you left. 

By the time you were walking in your complex you had tears down your cheeks. It had been hard to see him after everything. Hard to see him such a mess too. You had that feeling, the same one you did the day you found out you were pregnant. That things were changing, this was a turning point. Only this time it was a good one. 

It was hard to wrap your head around after all this time that he'd be there. Of course there would be a period of adjustment where he got to know his daughter, but eventually he'd be parenting just like you. It was a strange feeling to comprehend that you wouldn't be alone in this anymore. 

Seeing him and speaking to him, it had eased some of the bitterness that you'd held for him. Not completely but quite a bit. You couldn't hold onto the anger and pain of the past, not when Delilah needed this. You'd never be able to go back and redo how things happened but you could close that chapter and start a new one. One where Billy was actually around and your daughter had a dad. Despite the nerves for the dinner the next day, you were also a little excited and hopeful. 

[papergirllife]

Chapter 12 (M)

Synopsis:

You don’t know what it’s like to be free, to make your own choices, and live your own life. For your whole life, your parents have been treating you like a puppet on strings, controlling your life to every single detail, as well as ignoring the fact that you have feelings. Other times, when you disobey their wishes, or speak up about your own opinions, they bash you down with words, in other words, psychological abuse, has led you down the long winded road of depression and anxiety. What happens when you meet a man who’s willing to be your guide out of this terrible downpour? Would you give a shot at happily ever after?

Warnings:

big age gap (kinda?)

issues on anxiety

issues on depression (mild)

issues on parental abuse

smut

Ever since that night, you’ve decided to not stress so much about your business course grades, changing your everyday two hour study rule to only an hour for that course. As for your English course, you understood your lessons right away, only revising as you did its homework. The change of workload has improved your mood as well as appetite. You even started seeing a professional for help, under Johnny’s orders, a cousin of his from Canada, Wendy, who is a licensed psychiatrist, seeing her every Sunday morning made you feel better as well as putting yourself in a better light, you stopped blaming yourself for things that were apart of you because of the trauma you’ve been through. You realised that many aspects of your personality, like always being on high alert, was a sign that you were used to living on survival mode, which in turn induced sensory overload which turns into the panic attacks. These symptoms have gradually started getting lesser, having Johnny by your side gave you a new sense of security, a safety blanket to fall back on.

Johnny was worried that he couldn’t look after you mentally as well during times when he’s too busy with work, so the best solution he could think of was therapy. At first you were sceptic of his idea, citing you coped just fine all these years, despite having moments here and there, but he wanted you to heal from your trauma, so you agreed to his suggestion, but you were strongly against the idea of medication. You’ve read and studied the after effects of anti depressants, it made you stray away from any sort of pills that were said to ‘help’ you cope. Plus, you were doing just fine without them, even better now, after seeking professional help.

Johnny is glad to see you smiling more now, although you had moments were you had to overcome episodes of your mental health deteriorating all of a sudden, you’ve generally became brighter and happier. Johnny started teaching you things you didn’t understand over dinner, he wouldn’t have ever thought that he’d be good at teaching, or maybe you were just an exception for him, Johnny thinks strongly it’s the latter.

Soon, the two of you have gotten even closer than before. Some nights, you’d sleep next to Johnny when the weather gets cold, his warm embrace surrounding you like a huge blanket as you slept, nightmares didn’t happen whenever you fell  asleep with Johnny.

Johnny has been really patient with you, mentally and physically. The most the two of you have done is cuddle and kiss? Make out? Like once? Well it lasted for like 2 minutes, before you ran out of breath and the two of you resume doing whatever that you were doing, the tension in the room that day was nearly unbearable.

It’s not that you didn’t want to get intimate with him, it’s just that he had work and you had just found a balance between taking care of yourself and studies, you were worried that you’ll tip the boat by adding anything on the plate. At times, you’d be worried that Johnny wouldn’t be able to tolerate the slow pace between the two of you, and maybe look for someone else instead, but the way he comes home on time smelling like how he had hugged you before going separate ways in the morning, struck out all possibilities that he was seeing any other person, which made you feel guilty of thinking him that way when he’s been nothing but good to you.

Yet the thought of going bare in front of him scared you, you aren’t someone who’s really confident with your own body, hence why you constantly exercise and monitor what you eat, but you felt most insecure when you see your chest, you were barely average in that department and nothing compared to the models and actresses Johnny’s been with in the past. You tried eating more healthy fats and burning them immediately by exercising, but they seem to look the same, which makes you question if the logic that breasts grew until you’re 30 was true, and being lactose intolerant doesn’t help either, the internet always boasted about how dairy could make them grow, though many women said that it didn’t really work for them either. Sometimes you wish you didn’t know how those women looked like, maybe you wouldn’t be so insecure with yourself.

Johnny was looking forward to today’s events after your Saturday class, but even more so his alone time in the house. These nights have been hard for him to control himself, he knew how you love cuddling him whenever you slept, but the way your shorts ride up higher when you move in your sleep, it makes his thoughts go feral.

There’s nights where he’ll have to sneak out to the bathroom outside the hallway just to relieve himself, thank goodness you were a heavy sleeper. Though, he wouldn’t have to sneak around today, he could touch himself in the comfort of his own bed while you are out in class.

Johnny didn’t want to pressure you into anything, you just started coming out of your shell more, the idea of sex would have you running for the hills in seconds, and Johnny doesn’t ever want to make you feel uncomfortable or pressured to touch him, which is why he only does this when you’re fast asleep or out in class.

Johnny sighs contently as he slipped out of his sweats and underwear before laying down on the bed, he takes your pillow to breathe in your scent, the sweet scent of roses from your shampoo reminding him of you. Johnny takes his length into his hand, giving a few tugs on the tip to get him worked up, precum beginning to slide out like little pearls, lubing himself up as he close his eyes, imagining your figure beneath him, he thinks back to the time you ate an ice cream popsicle on a hot summer day, he imagines your lips wrapping around his length as he thrusts into his own fist, eyes scrunched shut as he focuses on pleasuring himself. The pace of his hand goes faster as he nears his high, your name falling from his lips as he bulks into his fist in sloppy thrusts as he pushes himself over the edge, spurts of white semen on the white sheets.

Johnny immediately gets up from his position, planning on changing the sheets, but before he reaches out of the door, he sees you, through the crack of the door, a shocked expression on your face.

Your Saturday class was cancelled because your English teacher had a minor accident with her car, so she had to cancel today’s classes. You decided to take a cab home, planning on what to do with Johnny, other than the dinner he promised you at the restaurant he had first took you to. You thought of going shopping with him, since he wanted to get a new coffee machine to replace the one that broke down. What you didn’t expect was to come home without anyone in the living area, though, Mark did move out after resolving his issue with his dad, you thought Johnny would be watching a movie or something, when you walked further into the house, you could hear Johnny calling your name, but he sounded like he was in pain, so you quickly followed his voice, only to be led to his bedroom.

You were going to push the door open, but before you did so, the door had a small gap cracked open, and that’s when you saw, Johnny with his pants off, his hand wrapped around his penis? You guess? That’s when you realised that he was masturbating to you. You were shocked to say the least, you never thought you’d be the topic of his, never mind, but you are his girlfriend, isn’t that normal? is it normal?

You don’t know why you didn’t back away when you could’ve just acted like nothing happened, you were just transfixed at how he looked like, it made you feel things you never had the chance to venture about, a warm feeling settling in your abdomen, but it wasn’t affection, it was something similar, but much stronger. Before you knew it, he finished or came, you don’t even know what it’s called, and he looked ethereal, the way he threw his head back as he says your name one last time. The sight made your legs freeze in place.

That’s when he caught you.

“Baby?” Johnny asked as he pulled the blankets up to cover himself.

You quickly ran into your own room and shut your door, embarrassed that you got caught watching him do something so intimate. You tried to get the scene out your head as you did your normal at home routine, change into comfy clothes and putting away your bag, trying to feel as mundane as possible.

Johnny cursed at himself for not being alert, if only he hadn’t been so focused on getting himself off, he would’ve heard the familiar chime of his front door. Johnny thought of chasing you, but he wasn’t dressed and he heard you shutting your bedroom door. So he decided to change the sheets to kill time and trying to calm himself, he wants to give you some time for yourself, maybe to register what happened? Johnny feels lost and disappointed in himself for tainting your innocence, he doesn’t even know if you watched porn before, for fuck’s sake, heaving a sigh, Johnny runs his fingers through his locks, a habit he developed whenever he was frustrated about something at work.

When he was done with changing the sheets and taking a shower to clear his mind, he decided make his way to your door, knocking it gently, just in case you were taking a nap, Johnny was extremely nervous, his palms clammy from cold sweat.

“Baby? Can I come in?” Johnny asks, his tone gentle, barely above a whisper.

He heard your tiny footsteps padding to the door, opening the door to reveal yourself, your hair down and wearing his clothes, you had a nervous an expression on your face as your fingers were anxiously twisting the hem of his shirt. Looking at the sight of you now, he felt even guiltier at that moment.

“You’re done?” you asked in a timid tone, scared that you’re overstepping his boundaries.

“Yeah,” Johnny said, looking into your eyes out of habit, but looking away after a millisecond, he felt ashamed.

You opened your door wider, silently inviting him inside when you moved away from your door and sat on your bed, Johnny following suite. The two of you sat crossed leg on your bed, eyes shying away from each other. Johnny decides to speak up first, deciding that it would be even more awkward if he prolongs the silence.

“I’m really sorry for what I did, baby. I’m sorry for making you feel uncomfortable, and seeing you in such a light without permission,” Johnny says, his eyes downcast, hands held together.

You were surprised at his apology, you had been blaming yourself instead, all the while you were pondering on how to word your apology.

“No, Johnny, I should be the one apologising, I shouldn’t have invaded your privacy like that, and I didn’t feel uncomfortable, in fact, I’m really surprised you would still think of me even, when you could have been thinking of anyone else, I know I’m not much, just an average looking girl-

“Baby, no. You look perfect, and definitely not average. Do you think I’ll lay eyes on just anyone? Your beauty stole my heart on the very first day we met,” Johnny said, hands holding yours, disbelief in his eyes, why in the world would you ever view yourself as average?

“Really?” your face carried a mixture of surprise and happiness, which made Johnny feel better about the situation, he holds your cheek in his hand, leaning in to kiss you softly, thinking he should use his actions to show how much he values you if words aren’t enough to get it in your head.

You immediately deepened the kiss, your body leaning into Johnny’s, his hands wrapping around your waist, you thought that this was the perfect opportunity to take your relationship to the next level, but when you guided Johnny’s hands underneath your shirt, Johnny immediately pulled away.

“Not yet, baby. Only when you’re ready,” Johnny said, still quite out of breath from kissing you.

“But I am-

“No, I don’t want you to do this for me, you’ll know when you’re ready,” Johnny said, his tone stern, but caring.

“Then when can I be ready?” you asked Johnny as you held him close, arms around his nape as he swayed his body back and forth, as if he was really handling a baby instead of a young lady in his arms.

“When you think of yourself instead of putting my pleasure before yours, I want you to place yourself first, I don’t want you to have a bad first time, I want it on your terms, okay?” Johnny said, hoping that you won’t get the wrong message of him not wanting you.

“Okay,” you agreed, you were kind of bummed, but sort of relieved that you didn’t have to face this challenge now.

“Why are you back so early, baby? Didn’t you have a replacement class today?” Johnny asked, wondering why you were suddenly home.

“The lecturer’s car broke down midway,” you said.

“That makes two of us unlucky for the day,” Johnny said, which made you laugh as you snuggled even closer to him, his chest vibrating as he laughs, a feeling that would always give you those warm swirls in your stomach.

[starlit-mansion]

bringing your work home with you (FNaF: Security Breach, 2K words)

AO3

She doesn't quite feel like herself lately.

(In which it takes a QA tester a long time to realize this latest project is living in her head rent-free.)

***

[This work contains some symptoms of fictional possession that manifest similarly to mental illness, as could be interpreted to be depicted in the secret tapes in Security Breach, as well as referenced depictions of common bad work cultures at video game companies including overwork and harassment.]

***

She gets a migraine at work, but she can't leave until she finishes these tests. Green spots bloom in her vision, pulse and grow and make it impossible for her eyes to focus on the VR screen an inch away. Instead of wrenching off the headset, she closes her eyes, even makes an effort at some familiar miming, batting at phantom camera panels and door buttons, trying to let her muscle memory take hold.

It's not a stress headache, nor one caused by hunger or lack of sleep. She knows the difference intimately. Her brain throbs, a spike of pain like an invisible stake plunged into her eye socket. She wonders, down in the part of her mind that observes her own pain with terrible boredom, if it means her cycle is about to start. Maybe it will thunderstorm later.

The aura passes within ten minutes, leaving throbbing and nausea in its wake. When she opens her eyes, she's in the debug area again, the one with the audio files. Did her flailing send her back here? She hopes no one notices what the last few minutes of her gameplay has looked like. You'd think a company as skin-flint as this one wouldn't have so much time as to review every minute of a QA tester's day, but there's always a chance that an algorithm grabbed an anomaly, and someone will notice.

On her next break, she grabs the store brand Motrin from the pocket in her purse where she keeps tampons and swallows it with bottled water. The caffeine in the pills might help. Another coffee might help too. She has a long way to go until she's done for the day.

Her vision feels a little blurry, and she worries for a second that the aura is back. She closes her eyes, examines them. No, just tracers from the light, painted in her retinas from when she tilted her head back to swallow. It's nothing.

She heads toward the break room proper, and pours herself a lukewarm black coffee. It's so bitter, so overwhelming, that she almost spits it back into the mug like she's a child trying it for the first time. Quickly, she adds creamer, and it's still just as overwhelming, but not as bitter. She chokes down as much of it as she can stand before heading back to her station.

Her heart races as she lifts the headset. Just the caffeine.

***

She should be resting her eyes on the bus ride home, but instead she's looking at her phone. Social media is plastered with news of a wildfire in California, whole towns swallowed. Her stomach pulses with anxiety immediately, then it settles down into apathy. Who does she know in California? Nobody special, maybe some old college acquaintances. No one she'd ask after. It's not likely to blaze hundreds of miles over land to Utah. Not her problem.

She closes the app, then opens a game. Princess Quest. She should be sick of games after the day she's had, but Princess Quest isn't vertigo-inducing work. It's something to poke at mindlessly, and it's less upsetting than the news. She skirts the monsters on screen effortlessly. 

She misses her stop by one, zoned out, and gets off a few streets away from where she should have been, hurrying past buildings made unfamiliar with darkness. Her heart is slamming against her ribcage by the time she makes it to her apartment door, fluttering with exertion and the last traces of over-caffeination. Tmp-tmp-tmp-tmp. No space between the beats, no rhythm.

It isn't until later, as she's getting ready for bed, that she notices she's burst a blood vessel in her eye, a watery splotch of red in the white. Her first thought is to hope no one notices. Her second is to hope that it's nothing serious.

***

There are no more migraines for the rest of the week, nor during the overtime she does on Saturday. By Sunday, she is so exhausted that she only makes it out of bed to forage through her cupboards for a couple of granola bars, and take them back to bed. The light coming through her window seems stark, painful, and she closes the curtain, sinking down into the covers and the dim pale glow of her phone screen.

She makes it further than she ever has before in Princess Quest, then orders a pizza on her phone after she dies. She starts another game, and it seems like only seconds until there's a knock at her door to startle her from her concentration. The princess dies in the game, and she tosses her phone aside.

When she opens her apartment door, a flat cardboard box is sitting on the ground. She can't tell if it was delivered by drone or human, but she also doesn't care. She'd only tipped the minimum on the app.

When she brings it back to her little nest, it's so warm that it tricks her brain into feeling a shred less lonely. When she takes a bite, the mixture of cheese and sauce and pepperoni grease slams through her tastebuds into her central nervous system. It's so good. She moans before she can help it, then is immediately mortified even though she's alone. Well. It's the only moaning her bed has borne witness to for quite a while. Work keeps her so busy. So tired.

She devours the slice of pizza, even though it's hot enough to hurt the roof of her mouth. She must have been hungrier than she thought.

***

The deadline is coming up, and they're going to miss it. The last level is a mess, and she's testing the latest rehauls. The game spits her into a flickering void before crashing, and she sighs as it boots up again.

Back in the main hub, she feels a strange sense of… unease. It's like the opposite of deja vu, like the strangeness of a bedroom in the darkness becoming unfamiliar, a coat thrown over a chair turning into a monster. She knows she's been here before, knows it hasn't changed, but she also has a feeling that she can't put into words that something is off. In her mind's eye suddenly, the prize counter is closer, dingier, smelling of stale candy and the faint chemical whiff of cheap plastic and processed textiles.

And yet, it doesn't alarm her, the not-deja vu. She is simply dreamy, dissociated, as her avatar moves to the prize counter. One of the plushies is clipping into the ground, flickering rapidly, its little legs sticking up in the air. It's yellow. Must be a Chica.

She picks it up. It's not Chica. It's Bonnie. It's the wrong color. 

She removes her headset to flag the error. It isn't until she tries to type that she notices her hands are shaking.

***

Despite everything, the game comes out, and it’s finally out of her hands.

She can't help but trawl social media, alternately searching out praise and hatred. Maybe it's simply a maladaptive attachment, but she feels a strange amount of ownership over the game. She wants to see it do well, wants to defend it and excuse the flaws for which she saw so much work sunk into smoothing down to mere bumps instead of jagged mountains.

Somehow, she ends up skimming a piece from one of the "thinky" gaming outlets that sidebars into a long discussion about the indie games that inspired the virtual reality experience, and about the real life events a half century ago that inspired said games.

"After the charges were dropped, the 'Missing Children Incidents,' as they came to be known among hobbyist investigators, were relegated to the cold case files. The instances of abducted children, totaling 14 over a span of 11 years..."

Fifteen, she thinks to herself, noting the error. No one ever missed C--

Her phone hits the ground, slipped from her fingers. She stoops to pick it up, stabs the article closed with a pointer finger, afterimages of something too sick to speak of flashing in the darkness of her mind.

That… that was an intrusive thought. Just an intrusive thought. Like the idea of jumping while standing near a tall ledge. Like the idea of kissing a teacher while standing in front of his desk being scolded. Strange, inappropriate, but human. Whatever crossed her mind in odd, anxious moments did not define her.

Panic is welling in her, intimate in its familiarity. She feeds it this time, hyperventilating, working herself into tears. It was a ghoulish project; she ought not to be surprised that she's having a delayed reaction, having weird thoughts about dead kids that've been dead longer than her parents have been alive.

The tiny part inside of herself that's always watching herself, bored of her own pain, is afraid too now, still and trembling and alert to danger.

It takes a long while to calm down, tracing her way through mental exercises she was taught when she was still on her parents' insurance, gulping air and wiping away spit and snot and tears until her sleeves are wet with it all. When there's nothing but trembling aftershocks left, her fingers find her phone, lighting it up with just her touch. Her thumb brushes the icon for Princess Quest and the screen blooms blacks as it loads.

Something mindless will calm her down.

*** 

She doesn't feel quite like herself lately. 

Then again, she hasn't felt quite like herself since she started working 70 hour weeks testing a VR game that made her increasingly dizzy and nauseous and on edge. She hasn't quite felt like herself since she moved away from everything familiar to take a job with a worrying turnover rate in the middle of Fucking Nowhere, Utah because it was the only place hungry enough for a warm body.

She hasn't quite felt like herself since that holiday party where one of her managers cornered her, red-cheeked and slightly clumsy with alcohol, and opined in no uncertain terms which of her… assets he personally thought had earned her a position with the company, while she froze like a prey animal in his sights, heart racing and brain emptying.

She hasn't felt like herself in so long that whatever self she imagines she was might never have been there at all, just a mirage in the distance, hope and ignorance with nothing underneath. 

Also she's been having a lot of cravings for sweets lately? Low fat yogurt and portioned bags of cookies aren't cutting it anymore.

There is a round of unceremonious layoffs at the company following the release of the game, even though it's decently successful. After all, there won't be anything much that needs testing for a while. She barely dodges the axe, not sure what exactly saved her. Luck? Her performance on the job? The… other thing…?

She can't tell if she's grateful to keep her position or not.

You deserve better than this, she thinks to herself, and she isn't sure why it took her so long to come to this conclusion. After all, it would be so simple to just try applying for some other job. This one isn't serving her anymore. 

It couldn't hurt to look, anyway…

She waits until her break to open an incognito window and search for jobs in the area. The hiring sites give her dead ends until she broadens her fields significantly, and realizes that she keeps seeing the same company flooding listings for hospitality, data entry, IT…

And it's the same company that already bought out this very game studio two years ago and moved its base of operations to this tax dodge ghost town with a skyline of two malls and an Ikea. Great. Just perfect.

She moves to close the tab, and her hand stills midway. 

She clicks on a listing.

***

The transfer seems to take forever, and also no time at all. 

This is for the best, she decides, sometime between shopping for modest blouses and touching up her roots with a kit in her apartment's mildewy bathroom. She's not a little kid. She can't just play video games all day long and call it a job. Eventually she was going to have to move on anyway.

There are three rounds of interviews, and at every one, some well-fed man with a close-cropped beard or woman with scrupulously restrained makeup tells her how important it is to the company to promote from within.

And in return, she smiles at them, and certain tiny muscles in her face twinge, as if she's never held them in that exact position before in her life.

[whump-me-baby-one-more-time]

They deserve better than this. Both of them. But this is all Caretaker can give Whumpee. (Cut because of length, TWs for forced pill taking, psychotic behaviour, mild violence, pinning down, implied waterboarding/drowning)

  Whumpee is back on their knees again. Their eyes are wide and unfocused and they're shivering with the kind of fear that makes them nauseous. A twisted kind of sickness churns in their empty stomach. Caretaker is crouched before them. In their hand is a little pill and they placed the glass of water on a nearby dresser when Whumpee started thrashing.

Their face is lined with exhaustion.

"Open your mouth, Whumpee," they say. They've given up on trying to soothe Whumpee when they get into this state. No assurances of safety or care ever seem to penetrate these panic induced fits. It's like talking to a frightened rabbit. It doesn't understand your language and the closer you try to get the more likely it is to die of a heartattack.

Caretaker never liked rabbits.

But they like Whumpee. Or they used to, anyway. They still care for them, and if anyone were to ask they'd vehemently deny any feelings of ill-will towards them.

But Caretaker is tired. And Whumpee... Whumpee isn't who they used to love. Not anymore. Occasionally the person they once were will peek through on good days, but it's a cheap reward for all the rest. All the breakdowns and the night terrors and the screaming and, somehow even worse, the silences that can last for days - after a while that old familiar smile just isn't enough to compensate Caretaker anymore.

They don't get paid to do this, either. Every time Whumpee throws up food or spits out their meds it comes out of Caretaker's own pocket.

"This is going to help you calm down," Caretaker says, offering the pill to Whumpee. "Come on, just take it. Open up."

And Whumpee flinches away, shoulders pressed into the walls of the corner they backed themselves into. Their jaw works as they press it together. Stubborn tears glisten in their eyes but they refuse to make a sound.

Caretaker grinds their teeth.

"We've been through this a dozen times, Whumpee. I don't want to hurt you, I'm trying to help you, so please, please don't make this so hard on us both. Be good, just for once."

Whumpee's breath stutters. They always try to be good, don't they? They always try. But Whumper is never satisfied, never satisfied, never, and the only thing Whumpee can expect is pain. Every time Whumper chirps at them to "be good" it's almost immediately followed by agony.

Whumpee curls up on themselves a little more.

"Okay," Caretaker says in a way that gives that word every meaning apart from "okay." They pick the pill from their palm and hunch their shoulders.

"Last chance, Whumpee. Just level with me, yeah?"

But they're not even sure the words filtered through to Whumpee.

"It's alright," they say as they approach the jittery creature. "You'll feel better in a moment. This'll help you come back down to reality."

They're in Whumpee's space now but they don't let themselves be deterred by Whumpee struggling when they touch them.

They hold the pill up to Whumpee's dry lips. Whumpee flinches violently but Caretaker expected it. Their hand is firm but not unkind as they grip Whumpee's jaw, shushing their hoarse whimpers of terror.

"It's alright, Whumpee. I won't hurt you. Just open your mouth."

Whumpee lashes out, once, hitting Caretaker in the chest, but it's weak and useless and they start shivering even worse from the anticipated punishment.

The tears are spilling freely now, but their lips are still pressed together tightly.

Caretaker closes their eyes for a moment.

They're so tired. Physically and mentally and emotionally, it all just seems to drain out of them a little more with each day. And Whumpee doesn't seem to be getting better. At first it was fine, but then they started having these fits and Caretaker doesn't know how to deal with that. The doctors say it'll pass with time. Maybe. Eventually.

Just give them the meds, that'll calm them down. Oh, and drive them to therapy, too. Can't get Whumpee into a car without alerting the whole neighbourhood to the shrieking and sobbing person you're apparently trying to kidnap? Don't worry, we have drugs for that, too! They'll make therapy impossible, but hey, maybe go for a picnic in the park instead, fresh air and good food can also aid in recovery. Whumpee keeps throwing up from the meds you gave them? We have a pill for that. Whumpee is barely capable of walking back to the car now? Who cares, as long as they're not screaming! You should be glad we've been able to help you out at all. Don't be so impatient. Just be happy you have them back, who cares that they can't feed themselves? Who cares that you haven't slept through a single night in two weeks? Who cares that you haven't had any time of your own lately? Who cares? Don't be so ungrateful. You love them, don't you?

Sometimes Caretaker wants to scream, but they don't. Sometimes they want to push a pillow down on Whumpee's face until they finally go to sleep for good and save themselves the pain of watching someone they used to know thrash and sob from a pain that Caretaker can't do anything to fix. But they don't. Because they do love them. And somehow that makes everything worse.

Because sometimes Caretaker will remember how it used to be. Sometimes Whumpee will wrap their arms around them in a hug or grin at them or look up from a puzzle with their head cocked the same way as it was before. Sometimes Caretaker watches Whumpee sleep, too worried to sleep themselves, and recognizes the face they used to love so much back when it was free of the strain of anxiety and pain.

They love Whumpee and that is so much worse than indifference because it hurts every time Whumpee lashes out at them or flinches away from them or looks at them like they're no better than Whumper at all.

And sometimes, some evenings, deflated on the couch with the Whiskey on the table and the bad thoughts in their head, they're not even sure if they're any better than Whumper themselves.

Maybe Whumpee is right.

But worst of all is how angry it makes them. Indifference would be a gift, because indifference has never bred hatred. Love on the other hand... Sometimes Caretaker isn't even sure who they're angry at. Whumper, they told themselves in the beginning. And that particular rage has never faded, that's true, but it's amassed companions over the months. Anger at Whumpee for being so uncooperative. For being so difficult. For being unreasonable. For being ungrateful. Annoyance at their antics. Their fits. Their night terrors. Their nervous habits. Their broken language. Disgust at the skin they scratch bloody. At the imbecilic way they can stare off into space for hours at a time. At the teeth starting to dissolve at the back of their mouth from all the acid they throw up. Disgust born out of frustration. Frustration, anger, sadness, despair, pain, rage, bargaining, annoyance; Caretaker goes through fifteen stages of grief every day and it's slowly wearing them thin.

Especially because all of these feelings are also directed towards themselves. Even when Whumpee has gone to sleep and the world should be okay, it isn't, because Caretaker and that bottle of Whiskey will stay up for hours trying to justify the thoughts and feelings they had that day and why it didn't make them a bad person, and fail miserably. Somehow the excuses will make them feel even worse and they'll go to bed drunk and wishing to be a better person. To be the one Whumpee deserves.

But in the morning they're still the same.

"Please," they whisper, looking at Whumpee's unsteady, fear-stricken eyes. "Please don't make me hate you."

Please, don't make me hate myself.

But Whumpee only whimpers. Caretaker exhales tiredly.

"Open your mouth, Whumpee. I won't ask again."

Whumpee scrunches up their nose as they try to wriggle out of Caretaker's grip, and Caretaker twitches in a spot deep inside. They're done asking.

With a decisive hand they grab Whumpee's head, thumb digging into the back of their jaw, forcing it open at the hinge. Whumpee yells and thrashes and tries to push Caretaker off.

Caretaker grabs their arm, their skinny, concerningly pale arm, and shoves their body roughly into the wall. Their fingers are leaving red welts on Whumpee's skin

"Stop fighting me, Whumpee," they say, voice coiled tight with suppressed anger and frustration and annoyance and-

Whumpee whimpers. Caretaker bares their teeth in a snarl.

"You need to take this and you will. Don't make me hurt you. You're out of your mind and you need. to. just. stop. fighting. me."

Their last words are punctuated by Caretaker smacking Whumpee into the wall by the shoulder repeatedly. Not violently, but harshly enough to make Whumpee dizzy enough to submit. Whumpee's chest is heaving with stifled sobs.

Caretaker forces their mouth open and drops the pill on their tongue. Whumpee's nails dig into their own arm.

"Good Whumpee," Caretaker says, relief blossoming in their stomach. They reach for the glass of water and hold it against Whumpee's lips. They're bleeding again, Caretaker notices with a worried sting.

"Drink. It'll help you swallow."

Whumpee struggles weakly, but eventually takes a sip. Caretaker watches them until they gulp it down, throat bobbing with effort.

They sit back on their heels with a sigh. Soon the drug will kick in and Whumpee will either space out or regain some coherence, depending on their state of mind. Either way is better than this. Last time they let this go on for too long Whumpee broke two ribs and a nightstand.

"You did good," they say, lying to themselves and Whumpee in a desperate attempt at making Whumpee feel better. Whumpee has always responded well to praise.

They look at Whumpee's face, streaked with tears, lips quivering, and their body sags. Whumpee never meant any harm.

"It's okay. You'll feel better in a minute. I promise." Their hand is soft when they caress Whumpee's cheek, pushing a damp strand of hair out of their eyes. Whumpee flinches but their head is already pressed against the wall on one side and they can't pull away any more, as hard as they may try. Caretaker tries their best to fight down the irrational bitterness of being rejected over and over.

"We're gonna figure this out, Whumpee," they say gently. "I just- I need you to stop fighting me, okay? We used to be a team, sweetheart. Remember that? I need you to work with me to beat this together."

I can't do this on my own.

Whumpee's head moves in what could be interpreted as a nod and Caretaker takes what they get. Whumpee always used to be the strong one, the one tempering Caretaker's storms and easing the weight of the world off their shoulders. It would make sense for them to at least try to be helpful now, no?

They smile weakly. "That's the spirit. We'll get you cleaned up in a minute, okay? Once you've calmed down."

Caretaker pulls away, leaving Whumpee to collect themselves. They don't even wince when Caretaker squeezes their arm reassuringly.

Maybe they're making progress.

They're about to stand up when Whumpee spits. The pill hits them in the face, sticky and partially dissolved and holding on to their cheek with sheer spite. Whumpee's mouth is set in a stubborn, suicidal, quivering line.

Caretaker blinks.

It takes a moment for them to react. When they do, it's with a deadly calmness.

"You don't like the pill," they say, words as dull as a razor blade. "You don't like the meds." They pull the pill from their skin. "I get that. I don't like it either. But you don't have a choice."

I don't have a choice.

"This isn't going to change anything, Whumpee. You are going to swallow this and if I have to push it down your throat for you to finally take a break I will."

Their eyes are glinting with sharp, bubbling anger badly kept at bay by unravelling patience.

When was the last time they slept for six hours straight? Or had been out with friends? Or done anything relaxing that didn't involve getting drunk?

The pill is gluey between their fingertips, its green outside coming off in smears. They just want a break.

"Open your mouth, Whumpee."

Whumpee spits again as Caretaker reaches for their face. It's a gesture born out of fear and the incapability to put their feelings into words, but it enrages Caretaker more than it ever did Whumper. Whumper liked Whumpee fighting back. It kept the game from becoming boring. And spitting was always such a childish thing to do that it heartened Whumper to see that they had reduced the once proud Whumpee to such base, helpless acts. You see, Whumper didn't love Whumpee.

But Caretaker does. And their anger burns all the brighter for it.

"Open your fucking mouth."

They're yelling now. Their voice is raised and cutting the air with inevitable self-contempt, but for now Caretaker is drowning in the rush of anger, hanging on to the couple of minutes before they consume themselves with regret.

Whumpee yells back when they grab their jaw, half of it slurred words telling Caretaker to back off, and the other half unintelligible gibberish whipping back and forth between begging and cursing. They flail, fists striking Caretaker's chest and arms, trying to push them off. The spittle that flies from their lips is red and leaves spots on Caretaker's shirt.

"Stop fighting me!" Caretaker roars, using their free hand to catch one of Whumpee's fists before it strikes their face.

They force Whumpee's jaw open again, but lose their grip as Whumpee bucks. They shove them back down into the ground and wrap their fingers around Whumpee's biceps so tightly that Whumpee yelps.

"I'm helping you," they grind out, trying to push the pill past Whumpee's lips. "Just take it!"

The tips of their fingers force themselves in through the cracked flesh, pill butting against Whumpee's teeth before Whumpee's jaw opens up a fraction and they bite down hard. Caretaker screams.

Whumpee lets go almost immediately, face white in shock, and Caretaker pulls their hands back. Both of them, one clutched against their chest and the other one flinging itself outwards for a moment.

It comes back down with a crack across Whumpee's cheek.

It's a hard, angry strike that sends Whumpee toppling onto the carpet, splitting their lips even further in the process. Bloody drops of saliva trickle down onto the fabric.

Whumpee sobs out loud. They're sorry, they're so sorry, they'll be better, they'll be good, please-

Caretaker flips them onto their back. Their fingers are bleeding as they pick up the pill from where they dropped it. They don't waste time asking Whumpee to open their mouth.

"Please don't," Whumpee hiccups, nails scraping at Caretaker's wrist. They squirm but Caretaker has them pinned down between their legs now, weight coming down heavy on their hips, and their mind floods with memories of Whumper.

"This is for your own good, Whumpee," Caretaker snarls, trying to fend off Whumpee's frantic scratching long enough to get a thumb into their jaw.

"Please don't," Whumpee whimpers, shaking their head in an attempt at fighting off Caretaker's grip. "Please, Caretaker, please don't."

Caretaker freezes. When was the last time Whumpee called them by their name? It happened so rarely that every instance burned itself into Caretaker's soul, like little lights of flickering hope. Little signs that maybe Whumpee could come back after all.

But this?

It was always "Master" or "Whumper" or "Sir/M'am" when Whumpee had fits like this or woke up from nightmares or was otherwise detached from reality and couldn't understand that they had no master now. Caretaker hated hearing that name on Whumpee's tongue like a prayer, those syllables whispered in pained pleas as if their tormentor was still with them.

Caretaker never once imagined how much worse it would be to hear their own name from Whumpee's cracking voice.

"You need to take this," they say, looking down at Whumpee in helpless despair. Their cheek is blossoming a violent red from where Caretaker struck them and somehow that makes Caretaker even angrier. If they're coherent enough to recognize Caretaker, then why are they fighting them so much?

"The doctor said- Stop scratching me, Whumpee." They push Whumpee's hand aside, then think better of it and push it down until they can pin it beneath their leg. Whumpee thrashes in response but Caretaker doesn't budge.

"The doctor said you need to take this when you get worse. It helps, okay?"

"No," Whumpee says, word barely audible between their sobs. "I don't want it, Whumper. I don't like it. Please, Caretaker, please don't. Please, I'll be good, Whumper, I'll be good, I don't want it, I don't need it, I'll do anything, please, please, Caretaker."

Caretaker watches as Whumpee dissolves into tears and their own heart breaks a little more.

"You're sick," they whisper, cradling Whumpee's throbbing cheek in their palm. "Whumper isn't even here, Whumpee. It's just me. Just me. And I don't want to hurt you, but you're out of your mind. Please, sweetheart, open your mouth."

Whumpee bucks their hips as Caretaker holds the pill against their lips. Their one free hand is scrambling to keep Caretaker away, fingers leaving angry streaks on their arm and tearing at their shirt.

"Get off of me," they say, nay, scream, and Caretaker cracks. If Whumpee thinks that they're the villain, then what's the point in playing nice?

Their hand is brutally rough as they force Whumpee's jaw open for good this time, pushing the sensitive spot until Whumpee's muscles give in to the pain; Caretaker is quick and the pill lands in Whumpee's mouth.

They don't get a chance to spit it out again. They try, tongue flicking in protest, but Caretaker snaps their jaw shut, hand over their mouth. They reach for the water glass, but Whumpee's fingers dig into their skin.

"Don't make this worse than it already is," Caretaker growls. They grab their wrist, trying to push it beneath their other leg, but Whumpee fights like an animal and it's all Caretaker can do to make sure their pinned arm doesn't slip free.

At last, out of options, they smack Whumpee's head against the floorboards. Once is enough. Whumpee stills, eyes glazed over with pain, and their arm drops down. Their fingers curl into the carpet as if trying to find support.

Caretaker's hand is slick with blood and tears.

The water glass is cool to the touch and they move quickly before Whumpee regains their bearings. They let go of their mouth, instead grabbing the back of their head and pushing it up, taking a hold of their hair when Whumpee tries to pull away. Their mouth opens, pill protruding slowly, but Caretaker quickly holds the glass against their lips.

Whumpee whines. The liquid pours down their chin as they clench their mouth shut.

"Drink," Caretaker says, tugging at Whumpee's hair in the last throes of patience.

Whumpee flares their nostrils. Their eyes are wide and panicked.

"Okay. You wanted it this way."

They release Whumpee's head and let it fall back down onto the floor, then wrap their hand around their jaw once more, keeping them in place.

Whumpee struggles sluggishly. Their thumb swiftly pushes inside Whumpee's teeth, bearing the risk of being bitten again, and they pour the water through the small gap created. Before Whumpee has a chance to react, Caretaker has already clamped their palm over their mouth.

Whumpee chokes. The water's running down their throat, burning in their nose as the pressure of their struggling pushes it out through any  available orifice, and all they can think of is how smug Whumper always looked when Whumpee begged for mercy when coming up for air.

They flail, body convulsing in anguish and panic, but Caretaker keeps them down, mouth set into a grim line.

"Swallow it, Whumpee. Swallow."

Whumpee does, eventually, their throat flushing it all down involuntarily, including the pill.

They fight to breathe through a runny nose, whistling in the process, and Caretaker finally lets go of their mouth.

Whumpee gasps and coughs and turns their face away.

"Show me your mouth. Whumpee, show me- Show me your goddamn mouth."

Caretaker's hand is harsh as they yank Whumpee's head up. Whumpee lets them pry their mouth open, defeated and aching, and Caretaker swipes a finger beneath their tongue and inside their cheeks before finally being satisfied.

They sit back up and release Whumpee's arm.

"Was that so fucking hard?"

Caretaker doesn't know who they're talking to. Whumpee's crying quietly and seems too incoherent and beaten to still be paying attention to anything said around them.

Caretaker wants to hit Whumpee. They want to pick them up and kiss them well. They want to crack their face into the wall. They want to apologize and comfort them. They want to kick them until they're screaming.

They love them. They hate them. They love them. They hate them. They- They ha-

And Caretaker's hand shakes as they try to decide who they want to be. Who they can be after all this.

At last, they get up. They leave Whumpee on the floor, bleeding from swollen lips as they curl up into a sobbing ball of misery.

Pathetic. Lovable. Disgusting. Innocent.

Caretaker's hand clenches into a fist and they walk away.

The door slams shut behind them. Whumpee's soft, pathetic noises can still be heard as they pour themselves a drink in the kitchen and try to calm their shaking hand.

They should go back in.

Maybe they'll pick Whumpee up. Maybe they'll be strong enough to overcome the festering rage in their chest. Maybe they'll clean them, caress them, rock them until Whumpee stops crying and falls asleep.

Maybe. Maybe not. They don't want to take the risk of finding out what kind of person they really are when the threads are severed.

Instead they take a sip. It burns and they let it sit in their mouth for a moment, relishing the pain. They deserve it. Whumpee deserved it. ...no, they didn't. They did. They didn't.

Caretaker closes their eyes and tries to breathe against the turmoil in their head. In their chest. Their hand.

They all want different things and Caretaker isn't sure which one will win, just that all of them will suffer if they make a decision.

So they won't. Not until the Whiskey has dulled the edge enough to make Caretaker less afraid of themselves.

Maybe by then the drugs will have kicked in and Whumpee will have stopped crying. Maybe by then Caretaker's compassion will have surfaced from the vat of ugliness they feel twisting inside them. Maybe it will even be strong enough to overshadow their self-contempt. Maybe.

[amysubmits]

Hello! Hope your day is turning out less anxiety inducing than expected.

I am here to ask your advice about messing up and moving on.

I had a bad mental day yesterday where I lost my temper in a way that is so shameful and that I have worked really hard to not do anymore. But I had a bad day, everything stacked and I reacted. I yelled and slammed things and did all the things i hate that I do (after growing up with that as an example of how to handle your emotions).

When you forget pills or make the big mistakes, you've reconciled with CD and handled it all. How do you let the guilt go?

We've decided that a punishment isn't a good idea for this bc I am so ashamed as it is. And he isn't hurt or angry with me BECAUSE I have been doing so well controlling and monitoring those feelings. I slipped and he knows that it hurts me to do so.

But I'm holding onto those "I'm a trash human" feelings.

Thank you! It did go a bit better than expected. 😊

I struggle with this too, so I'm not sure that I'll have very helpful advice, unfortunately.

I know that when it comes to forgiving others people disagree about what forgiving vs forgetting looks like and I imagine that's true for self-forgiveess too? So if you disagree with this I totally get it. But I personally hold the belief that if I screw up badly, I should feel bad. So my personal goal isn't to feel okay about what I did...I think it's okay that I feel guilty or embarrassed or whatever other 'bad' feelings, assuming that it's a reasonably measured response to whatever it was that I did.

For me, my goal with self-forgiveess is to not hate myself or beat myself up, basically. I want to be able to look at mistakes that I made and go man, that was really stupid, or selfish, or short-sighted, or irresponsible, or whatever else...and that really wasn't okay, and I really need to do better...but also not hate myself for it. I don't want to dwell in the bad feelings or use it as a reason to emotionally self-harm, basically.

And I don't always know how to strike that balance. So that's why I don't really have good advice, haha. But to some degree just knowing what balance I am trying to hit, sometimes helps me keep perspective. Because I can sort of use that reference to look at my own thoughts and decide which ones I should try to 'keep'. For example, "That was irresponsible and wasn't acceptable." is a thought that is reasonable and worth keeping. "I am terrible and everyone should hate me." is basically self-abuse, and I should try not to hang on to those thoughts/feelings/beliefs.

When it's something that involves CD, him telling me that he forgives me helps. Sometimes he tells me things like "It's over and done with." to encourage me to not dwell. Of course, these aren't cure-alls, but his encouragement does help.

When it's something like you've mentioned where you have been doing really well and have improved a lot...I would try to remind yourself of that. That you are growing and this was a speed bump.

But yeah, I guess I know that none of these things are super helpful.

Maybe someone else will have better ideas? Others feel free to chime in. :)

[deathisanartmetzli]

Are You New? || Milo & Metzli

TIMING: Current

PARTIES: @wickedmilo @deathisanartmetzli

SUMMARY: Milo finds himself being saved by the most unlikely person.

CONTAINS: Alcoholism, Substance Abuse, Eating Disorder, Addiction

It wasn’t nearly enough. The blood bag they had received only quenched a fraction of the hunger they felt. At least Metzli found some relief from the spinning and fatigue the hunger strike they were on induced. Because of their state, they took to being more of a recluse and staying indoors as much as possible, not even taking to flirt with anyone online or in person. The activity took too much energy, and anything that was incited due to the flirting would not be satisfying, to anyone.

Amity Road had to have a place they could consume blood, but it still somehow felt off. They would consume blood-mixed alcohol freely before. That was then, this is now. Being different from the vampire they were was the goal. They couldn’t help but wonder if their new goal meant they couldn’t partake in the drinks they once enjoyed. Asking the bartenders how the business retrieved their blood supply seemed like too much as well, so they resolved to simply ignore the hunger until obtaining a blood supply was ethically sourced.

The parade of thoughts were quickly interrupted though, as a familiar hunter’s scent engulfed Metzli’s sense of smell. Ugh, it was Nicholas. A hunter that hated their guts. He wouldn’t attack out in the open though, there were too many witnesses and even beings that would step in and rip him apart. It appeared he was looking for someone, no, at someone. Looking down his line of sight, they caught sight and smell of the vampire up ahead. Moral obligation set by their clan kicked in, and they fast-walked steadfastly to Milo. “Hey kid, I think you’re being tailed by a hunter. Follow me and you’ll be fine,” They whispered and put an arm around Milo’s shoulders.

Louder now, they put on a show. “Hey! Long time no see. Where the hell you been?!” Metzli pulled him towards a road that led to an area full of trees.

Milo wasn’t sure how his body was still aching. Of all places, he definitely shouldn’t be back in a bar. Even he knew that, and he was notorious for trying to solve his problems with pills. He didn’t want to admit it, he petulantly refused to admit it, but Macleod was right. The crash had been inevitable, and with nowhere soft to land, he had emerged from it battered. Bruised, and broken. Alcohol wasn’t helping, and neither were his precious substances, but he didn’t know what else to try. How was he supposed to silence the voices in his head? How else could he ever be expected to move beyond the panic of being cornered by mimes, to forget the injury that had left him vulnerable, and weak, to bury the feeling of Alexander’s mouth, hot and teasing, against his neck. His chest tightening at the memory, he reached up to press a hand against the scars at the base of his throat. He hated how complicated things had become, he hated how damaged, and worthless his trauma was leading him to feel. Apparently he couldn’t even manage a one night stand without descending into fear, and anxiety. He only wanted things to be normal, but this was his normal now, so he swallowed his frustration, reaching forward to claim the shot the bartender had generously poured for him. At least he was still able to charm stronger drinks out of people, encourage them to fill his glass to the brim rather than the ridge.

Taking it back, he closed his eyes at the familiar burn of the clear liquid. It was the closest he ever felt to home anymore. He wanted to be left alone, to continue his attempts at fighting off the toxic mixture of a hangover and a comedown, now seven days in the making. But as always White Crest existed only to make him suffer. Flinching at the sound of a voice he didn’t recognise, his eyes snapped open, and quickly landed on a stranger. Their appearance wasn’t the first thing he noticed though, because their presence came with the distinct lack of a heartbeat, and a very, very familiar scent. Repressing any discomfort he still felt in the company of other vampires, he stared at them, taking a moment to register their words. Tailed by a Hunter. Maybe he should care, maybe he should be worried, or nervous, or look around to try and see who might be marking him for a second death, but all he could do was sigh. The air leaving his lungs, he didn’t put up a fight as an arm pulled him close, guiding him away from the bar and into the cool, crisp night air of his hometown. “Don’t lie to me,” he muttered, already craving another drink. “Fine is a matter of perspective, you can’t promise me fine.” Wincing as the stranger raised their voice, making a show of their non-existent friendship, he struggled to ignore the pounding in his head. “Where are you taking me?”

“How the hell am I supposed to know?” Metzli answered, surprised that Milo didn’t resist at all. They wondered if this had happened before. No time to wonder now though. “You’re depressing as hell, and you reek.” They looked behind them and saw that the hunter was following closely behind. Fuck. Okay, maybe they could just disarm and flee. “There’s a building a quarter mile that way,” a finger pointed, “Take a good whiff of the air. There’s ammo, cedar wood, and really bad cologne. A hunter. I’m gonna say hello, and you run, got it?”

Shuffled steps moved quickly, rising in volume as the hunter approached with a stake in hand. “Nick! How’s it going?!” Metzli pushed Milo forward and turned, opening their arms in a gesture for a hug. A stake swung right towards their chest, which they caught swiftly and flipped him over using his own weight. “Now that’s really rude. I was just saying hi!” They smiled, taunting the man who then tripped them and loomed above with the point right at their chest. “Hey!”

Metzli’s strength was waning and they felt so sluggish, but they knew they had to persevere. “You—” Several punches to the face with brass knuckles disoriented the vampire, and the need to get away rose. “Fuck you! I’m done playing nice!” Metzli twisted both hands, and with audible snaps, Nicholas fell over. They rose and ran quickly towards the abandoned building, their vision a little blurry. Making it only a tenth of a mile, they stumbled and fell. Fuck.

Milo felt a surge of annoyance, his fists clenching at his side, but he didn’t respond, choosing to hold his tongue in the hope of avoiding an argument. It was only as they began nearing the treeline that his nerves finally managed to grow in strength. This was incredibly moronic, allowing a vampire to escort him away from the safety of the public. But he wasn’t exactly in a position to fight back, and for all he knew they were telling him the truth. “Maybe I’m depressing because I’m depressed.” He bit out, stumbling a little as the arm around him suddenly disappeared. He turned to his company, staring at them as they started listing observations. They were right, he could smell all of the above, but he really hadn’t considered what that might mean. “Do all hunters wear bad cologne?” He asked, aware of the fact that he should probably be taking the situation a little more seriously. “Is that a thing?” He faltered, realising the vampire was too focused to listen to his nonsense. “Wait- what?” Suddenly more alert, understanding what their plan was, and what they were asking him to do, he very nearly groaned in response. But it wouldn’t be fair to throw a tantrum when they were quite possibly putting their un-life at risk for him. Who would do that for a stranger? Nothing made any sense, and he longed to be back inside the bar. Back where he felt comfortable, back where he knew how things were supposed to work. A quiet yelp escaping him, he tried not to fall forward as he was pushed, the unexpected contact catching him off guard. He turned back to protest and was shocked to find the hunter already upon them both. Jeez, he really needed to be more careful. No matter how many times he told himself that, putting the skills Harsh had taught him into practise was proving far more difficult than it should be.

He dazedly observed the scene, taking a few steps backwards to put some distance between himself and the brewing conflict. He wasn’t sure who to be more afraid of, but as he watched the vampire flip the hunter onto his back, teasing the man with the air of somebody who had done this far too many times, he decided he didn’t want to stick around and make a decision. For whatever reason, the vampire was helping him, they weren’t a threat to him… yet. He found himself resisting the urge to get involved. He wasn’t a fighter. He was hungover, and weak. Besides, he told himself, they seem to have it covered. Swallowing his pride, and his petulant desire to walk back into the bar, he did what he had been told to do, and made his way towards the supposed safe house. His gait was awkward, and tired, but he ran as fast as his body would allow, occasionally stopping to rest against a tree, his head spinning with the exertion. During one of his breaks, unsure of how far he had travelled, he heard footsteps following his path, accompanied by the familiar smell of the vampire who had helped him. “Hello?” He stage whispered, listening to his voice as it carried through the darkness. Before anybody could answer there was a rustle, followed by a thud, and he felt sure whoever was close by had fallen to the ground. Were they injured? Taking a deep, careful breath, he caught the subtle smell of old blood, congealed, and decidedly unappealing. Knowing he needed to find the vampire he scanned the foliage nearby, pushing away from his resting place with a vague sense of genuine concern. “Uh… you didn’t like… murder that guy, right?” He asked, as he tiptoed to where he felt they might be situated. “Are- are you okay?”

Metzli spit out blood, annoyed with themselves for being so weak. Their face was royally fucked, they could feel it. “No, I didn’t murder him. But he’s gonna be outta commission for a bit. Unless he gets some buddies. Which isn’t far off. I can hear him on the phone.” They sat up slowly, still dizzy and wobbly even as they got to their feet. God it hurt to stand, but they had to keep moving. Getting to the building was important. “He’s definitely calling his buddies,” Metzli spit again to the side and ran a hand through their hair. “Let’s get to the building. We can figure out what to do from there, depresso.”

It took a bit of stumbling, but the two arrived to the building, and walked in carefully. “Here,” Metzli pulled a flask from the inside of their suit jacket and handed it to Milo. “It has whiskey in it. I’m Metzli, by the w—” Their speech was slurred as black overtook Metzli’s sight. With the help of the wall, they managed to keep themselves upright and navigated further inside. “So much for that blood bag. Can’t be a proper vampire off of it. Puta madre.” Punching the wall proved to be both cathartic and extremely painful, but they didn’t regret it. Though the twitching smile on their face would say otherwise.

Continuing on, there was an empty room the two could hold out in for a while. “Are you new? ‘Cause you didn’t even smell that hunter at all.” Metzli asked, intrigued by the idea of a rookie. It had been a century since they’d been in his shoes. They sat, leaning against the wall exhaustedly.

Moving towards the sound of the vampire’s voice, it didn’t take Milo very long to find them. They were lying on the ground as predicted, and he felt a jolt of panic course through him as he realised they were undeniably hurt. He couldn’t exactly hold off a hunter, and even if he was grateful to hear the man was still alive, valuing his human life wasn’t going to stop him from trying to take his vampire one. Listening quietly, he couldn’t make out what was being said, but the quiet voices from beyond the trees were obvious. “Shit.” He muttered, his panic only managing to grow as the vampire who had saved him confirmed the hunter was definitely calling for backup. “I-” He broke off, debating whether to help them up as they struggled to get to their feet. But they eventually made it, their new height drawing attention to just how much damage had been done to their face. Milo’s hand absentmindedly moved to his side, to where Diedre had been forced to patch him up. The injury still ached as it continued to heal, but the process had been surprisingly fast. Hopefully some of the bruises on their face would begin to clear up as they made their way to their destination. “You still haven’t told me what building.” He pointed out. “The last time I let a stranger take me to some random building I ended up dying so…”

Watching them as they began to walk away from him, dragging their feet, slow in their progress, he let out a huff of breath before following them. They had saved him, after all. And he really didn’t like his chances against multiple hunters, even if one of them was temporarily out of action. Their pace was steady, and it didn’t take them very long to stumble upon what he could only assume was the building they were aiming for. It looked questionable, but he was very aware the entire situation was questionable. So he ducked under their arm as they opened the door, jumping as it eventually shut behind them both. For a brief second there was an uncomfortable silence, and then he was being offered a flask. Eyeing it carefully, he hesitated for a few seconds too long before finally taking it, sniffing at the contents to be sure it really was whiskey. “Milo.” He answered, only looking back up at Metzli as their speech noticeably began to slur. A frown creasing his brow, the flask was momentarily forgotten. He reached out to help them but they had already managed to steady themself. “What?” He asked, curious to hear more about a blood bag. Had they been poisoned? Could vampires potentially have a bad reaction to blood? Taking a step back, eyes widening, it was only as rubble and dust hit the floor that he realised Metzli had punched the wall behind them. “What- what was wrong with the blood bag? I don’t understand...” He asked, trying and failing to hide his distress.

Swallowing, feeling sheepish in the face of such an unexpected question, he lowered his gaze, staring down at his feet. “Seven months.” He admitted, as they both made their way into the next room, equally as dilapidated as the first. “Give or take…” He shrugged, hoping to expel some of his self consciousness. “Maybe I was distracted.” He added, attempting to ignore the sudden urge to defend himself. “Or are you going to be another person in my life telling me I’m not good enough? That I’m- I don’t know, throwing away my potential or some bullshit?”

“Nothing was wrong with it. It just wasn’t enough.” Metzli groaned from the pangs of hunger they felt. The pangs were getting stronger, but they had to ignore them. This became relatively easy thanks to the interesting kid in front of them. Depressed and has a complex. Should be fun. “Potential? Hell, you just became a vampire. Can’t be too little or too much this far in. I’m over a century old. If you were like this at my age, then maybe people would have the right to say you’re throwing away your potential.” Talking this much wasn’t typical, but it was better than acknowledging the pestering feeling in their stomach.

“You weren’t just distracted, kid. It’ll take a few years to learn. Ignore the idiots. After all, they’re just idiots.” Metzli waved their hand dismissively, rolling their eyes at the very idea that people couldn’t leave well enough alone. They didn’t understand why anyone stuck their nose somewhere if they weren’t gonna contribute anything of substance. And no one was helping Milo by treating him this way. “Listen, depresso, I mean, Milo, tell those guys to fuck off and keep doing what you’re doing. You literally have an eternity to live. Do whatever the fuck you want. Give up your soul like me. Or don’t. Just do whatever you want.”

The pain was building in Metzli’s body as they spoke. Each word getting more strained than the last. Without the proper amount of blood consumed, the healing process would not only be painful, but slower as well.

“Oh…” It made sense, though Milo had never starved himself to the point of being weakened. Thirsty, yes. Really, really thirsty, but always somewhat in control. It seemed Metzli was beyond that, and he had no idea how to help them. “Why aren’t you eating?” He asked, the question escaping him before he could stop it. He knew through Luis, Harsh, and so many other people he had spoken to that there were places in White Crest to easily source blood. He was lucky his roommate had access to the hospital’s blood supply, but even if Harsh decided to cut him off he knew he would be able to find more. Why couldn’t Metzli? What was stopping them? Faltering at his company's surprising response to his attitude, he found himself genuinely speechless. Watching them for any sign they might be lying, or telling him what he wanted to hear, he released with a start that they were being serious. They weren’t judging him, they had simply been asking a question. There were no impending lectures, no disappointed glares, or offhand remarks about his habits. They had accepted who he was without any form of resistance. “You- you aren’t going to tell me I should have noticed?” He knew he shouldn’t tempt fate, give them a reason to take back their words, but he was desperate to hear their answer. “Or that I should have been able to- to fight back?”

A tired smile tugging at his lips, he decided he liked Metzli. He didn’t know anything about them, not really. But he liked them. “Wait-” Breaking off, allowing himself to process what he had just been told, he realised they were the first vampire he had ever spoken to who had not only given up their soul, but was willing to talk about doing so. “You don’t have a soul?” He made no effort to hide his curiosity, knowing it would be pointless. Scanning the room as he spoke so that he could avoid actively staring at his new friend, he soon gave up on searching for fabric, taking a drink of whisky before shrugging out of the plaid shirt he had on, revealing an old Hulk tee Rio had once gifted him. “Then why did you help me? If you don’t have a soul… doesn’t that mean you don’t care about, you know… saving other people from hunters?” Tearing off one of his shirt’s sleeves, he folded it neatly into a square, pouring a little whisky onto it before setting down the flask. Approaching Metzli, he held the cloth up, almost as a peace offering. He doubted vampires needed to sterilise their wounds, but he didn’t have any water, and it would be good to get some of the blood off of their face. He wasn’t sure it would aid any healing if they hadn’t eaten in a while, but it would be worth trying at the very least. “So, uh…” He gestured with the cloth, silently asking for permission to approach them with it. “Do you have places like this all over town? Like… ‘hide from hunter’ designated buildings?”

It felt shameful to speak of it. To speak of Bex, and what she had done to them. To admit why they were preventing themselves from feeding. They felt disconnected from every emotion that stemmed from empathy, but the logic of it all built a wall between them and feeding from people or feeding from sources they weren’t sure of. “Pretty much testing myself thanks to someone I met. Her parents were pieces of shit even with souls, and she kinda just got in my head. Fucking Bex.” Metzli muttered her name to themselves and took the offering. It didn’t sting to wipe their face, in fact, it felt refreshing to have the blood cleaned off for the most part. “I’m pretty new here so finding sources of blood where I know exactly where it’s from has proven difficult. It’s stupid.”

Metzli felt embarrassed to tell a stranger this, but they figured why not. The two vampires would be stuck until it was safe enough to head out in their state. Taking on multiple hunters would not be ideal. “What? No. You just started a new fucking life. You’re basically a toddler with super powers. You’re dumb, yeah, but that ain’t your fault. No one has taught ya shit.” Dust bellowed about as their head leaned against the broken wall. Exhaustion was setting in now, and it was only a matter of time before they possibly fell into a trance.

“No soul. Just a firm set of habits ingrained from my clan. If there’s a kind that you attempt to even help, it’s your own. If I wasn’t able to save you and you died though, I wouldn’t have cared. Not my fault. I would have at least tried,” They chuckled, and rubbed their head. A headache was coming in. “I don’t have hideouts. I just notice places and keep track in my head. In case of shit like this. You should probably do the same.”

“Bex?” Milo echoed, shocked to hear his friend’s name in such a strange context. “You’re not drinking blood because of Bex?” He tried to imagine what Bex might have said to make Metzli think starving themself was a good idea. She had never told him to stop drinking blood, although he could still remember her hesitance upon learning he drank human blood. It didn’t matter whether it came from bloodbags, it obviously made her uncomfortable. “Did she say something to you?” He needed to know, needed to understand what had taken place between the vampire standing in front of him, and one of his closest friends. “Should you be testing yourself? Is that even safe?” He thought back to Harsh explaining what happened when a vampire didn’t drink blood. It definitely didn’t sound enjoyable. “Have you been to the market?” He couldn’t remember the name of it, but he could still see the market stalls in his mind, rows and rows of vials filled with different types of blood. “Someone took me there once…” But he hadn’t asked where the blood had come from, in fact he had intentionally avoided asking in case the answer was one that he didn’t want to hear. Watching with a grim sense of satisfaction as all of the blood was cleaned from Metzli’s face, it only made the bruises more obvious, and he had to stop himself from wincing as he looked back up at them.

“I’m twenty-two, I’m not a toddler.” He insisted, resisting the urge to frown. “And I do have help, I do have somebody teaching me. I’m just… reckless, I guess. It was pissing people off back when I was human so it makes sense that it’s still pissing people off. I just… I don’t know.” He brushed away his thoughts, unwilling to dwell on his insecurities. He wasn’t about to force an injured vampire to play therapist, no matter how tired he was, no matter how bad he felt both physically, and mentally. “You had a clan?” Moving to drag an old bedside table towards where Metzli was standing, he gestured for them to sit on it, hoping that might make a difference somehow. “I’ll pretend you would have fallen to your knees and screamed ‘no’ at the sky like a superhero, that’s way more preferable.” He half teased, attempting to lighten the mood. Glancing towards the window, he couldn’t see anything beyond it. Only darkness, and a handful of trees. Were they really any safer indoors? He wasn’t feeling very confident. “How do you know they aren’t going to find us here?”

Metzli’s brow raised at the recognition in Milo’s voice upon hearing Bex’s name. “I guess you know her, huh? No, she didn’t tell me to stop. She just…got in my head. Some bullshit about being good is a choice. So here I am, making a choice to see if I can be good with or without a soul. I don’t feel shit but I guess I’m being good.” Their voice grew quieter, feeling the pain rise and making it harder to speak. The subject wasn’t particularly one they wanted to talk about so they used whatever energy they had left to compel Milo to stop. “No more questions on that, got it?” The vampire sighed in frustration before taking a seat. “I don’t care if it’s safe. I just need to test the theory and be done with it.” Adjusting themselves, they laid down and rested their eyes.

“I said you’re like a toddler. With superpowers. You were born again, kid. It’s safe to say that you’re a toddler vampire. Not a bad thing. Just a fact.” Metzli’s eyes remained closed as they explained, enjoying the darkness behind their eyelids. “Had a clan, yeah.” A groan escaped their lips and they rubbed their damaged face. “Not the best thing to get into. Steer clear.” It was genuine advice based off of the awful experience they had many years ago. Those were days that weren’t talked about, only thought of in the dead of night because sleep escaped them, evaded them for the rest of eternity.

“If I’m being honest, I don’t know if they’ll find us or not. I just know I couldn’t run far. If ya wanna leave, go ahead. I’ll be fine.”

“I do.” Milo admitted, thinking back to the first time he ever met Bex. She had been arguing with a bartender refusing to serve her, and he had stepped in to swipe her a bottle of vodka. It was strange how such a seemingly inconsequential interaction could lead to a genuine, and meaningful friendship. “She’s not wrong, you know… about good being a choice.” He liked to think so, at least. Despite sometimes wandering into a few grey areas, he never intended to hurt anyone. “It’s good now, but it won’t be good if you lose it and end up tearing out someone’s throat.” He added, repressing the memory of doing just that in an alleyway after first coming to. He had been so confused, so lost and alone. Maybe this was his chance to make up for the pain he caused. if he could only stop it from happening to somebody else… But then Metzli was bringing the conversation to an end, their voice curt, and serious. They left no room for him to argue, so he fell silent, listening as they took a seat, and wondering vaguely whether his blood would offer any substance. He could only assume the answer was no, but he had never discussed the subject with Harsh. “I’m guessing my blood is useless?” He asked. “Last question, then I’ll leave it alone.”

Shooting his company a petulant glance, he turned his gaze back to the window. Walking over to it he tried to see through the glass but it was covered with dust, and moss, watermarks staining the sodden wood surrounding it. He could barely see out, which surely meant anybody passing by could barely see in. He definitely couldn’t hear any hunters beyond the walls of his new little sanctuary. What if they had decided to take their injured friend home? It would only be a case of waiting them out. “Clans are… bad?” He asked, sighing deeply before finding a table to sit on. He dragged it over to where Metzli was resting, pulling himself up onto it so that he could lazily swing his legs. “I’m not about to leave you here, you’re in this state because you were looking out for me. What kind of an asshole would I be if I bailed on you now?”

Eyes opened lazily to look at Milo. He had a lot of annoying questions. But that was a given, considering he was fairly new. Still, Metzli huffed in anticipation of answering his question, and in reaction to agreeing with Bex. “Your blood is utterly useless, so don’t bother. Listen,” They paused for a moment, trying to prop themselves up and wincing as they did. “I’ve been alive for a while, you don’t have to question whether or not I’ll survive. And even if I don’t, it’s whatever. I’ve lived my span of life. I don’t care either way. That’s why the theory is so easy to try and test. I don’t care about anyone’s life, not even mine.”

Silence sat between the two as Metzli’s words settled. Distaste for life, existence itself resonated, revealing how cynical they could be. Being alive had its moments, really good moments, but they were greatly outweighed by all the traumatic and mundane ones. Moments that the vampire carried so quietly. “Think of it like a cult. Masters can be major assholes. Fucking pricks.” Acid filled every word and they had to squeeze their eyes shut despite the pain of the black eye forming to repress the anger.

Lucky for them, Milo gave them an opportunity to lighten the mood. “Hey, you’d be an asshole I’d be proud of if you left. Baller move. Looking out for yourself is key.”

Milo’s legs stopped swinging in response to Metzli’s tone, and he glared at them from where he was sitting. “I’m only trying to help, jeez…” He muttered, lowering his gaze to stare down at his hands. It was strange hearing somebody be so open about not having empathy for others. They really didn’t care whether they hurt someone, or even ended up getting hurt themself. It was a difficult thing to understand, and it was only making him feel certain he never wanted to be that person, the person who gave up such an intrinsic part of himself. He didn’t know what Metzli had suffered through in order to make them let go of their soul, and it felt far too personal to ask, even by his standards. But knowing they had made him sad. He wondered who they would be if they still had their soul, whether they would seem like an entirely different person. Sometimes not caring, not feeling would be freeing, and potentially even enjoyable. But Harsh had promised him he could still be Milo, that becoming a vampire didn’t mean having to change who he was. Giving up his soul would be erasing everything that made him. Everything Milo Summers. The idea was unnerving, he didn’t enjoy it. Listening quietly as his company began to elaborate on what made clans so terrible, he sat in silence for a while, just allowing the time to pass. He no longer felt nervous, or on edge. His fear was steadily being replaced by a feeling of protectiveness, a need to make sure Metzli was okay.

He knew it was stupid, a twenty-two year old kid feeling somewhat responsible for someone who had been around for over a century, but seeing the older vampire so weak, tired, and at the mercy of their injuries, he couldn’t help himself. “Don’t join a clan.” He said finally, nodding as he mulled over the words. “Noted.” Only glancing back up when Metzli insisted they would be proud of him if he had abandoned them, his expression darkened at the thought. How could he ever? When they had clocked the danger, and intentionally removed him from its path. It didn’t matter whether they cared about him on an emotional level, he owed them. And with his soul still firmly where it was meant to be, his gratitude was quickly becoming an unexpected sense of affection. “It’s okay, I’m kind of used to disappointing people.” He admitted, a smile tugging at his lips. “You’re stuck with me. At least until we know it’s safe to get out of here.”

“If you insist, depresso,” Metzli mocked half-heartedly. Milo spoke so badly of himself that it was actually humorous, brinking on annoyance. All this talk of being a disappointment yet he was doing a noble thing. The very fact that Milo was willing to stay was baffling to them. They themselves had abandoned several people and even tricked others. Vampires were predators, they attacked, they ate. Plain and simple. There was no need to meddle with the emotions of it all. “On the clan thing,” They added, “That’s actually where I gave up my soul. My master convinced me. But I won’t get into that. If I see ya again, maybe I’ll tell you over a drink.”

Thoughts of whether or not Metzli would be similar to Milo if they had a soul jumped around their mind. He was kind, maybe a little too kind. Life had beaten him up a little, sure, but it hadn’t completely destroyed him yet. Or maybe it never would. Regardless, it mattered not to Metzli.

Opening their eyes, Metzli slowly sat up and began to stand. “Or if you ask really nicely, I’ll tell you now.” The older vampire smiled, now looking at Milo. An arm wrapped around their stomach. It hurt to be this hungry and made it even harder to concentrate as they listened. “We should be good to go, though. So you’re gonna have to wait for that drink. I don’t hear anyone even remotely close.” They sighed in relief. Both of them got seriously lucky.

“I guess you weren’t the worst person to be stuck with.” Metzli teased, now knowing he could take it.

Milo rolled his eyes, it was the first opportunity he had been given to really hear his new nickname and though he couldn’t argue against its relevance, it wasn’t exactly flattering. “I do insist.” He said, his voice firm so that Metzli would know he was telling the truth, he really was trying to help them. He wanted to. Shifting on his perch, he chewed thoughtfully on his bottom lip as they began to tell him more about why they had given up their soul. Feeling a pang of guilt for his previous assumptions, he realised they hadn’t given up a part of who they were, they had essentially been manipulated into letting somebody take it. This had nothing to do with their personal wants and desires. He wondered whether they ever missed the way things were, whether they ever regretted their decision, or even had the capability to wish they had done things differently. “Only if you’re buying.” He said, catching their gaze, his eyes shining with humour. Watching them as they began to stand, he hesitantly pushed away from his table, landing lightly on the floor so that he would be able to assist them.

Pausing briefly to listen at the mention of their being no sign of company, he was relieved to find he couldn’t hear anybody either. Maybe if they travelled away from the forest trails they would be able to make it back into town without crossing any hunters who were out to get them. “You know…” He said quietly, noticing the way Metzli was clutching at their stomach, “my roommate works nights, so he won’t be home… I could raid the fridge and share a couple of blood bags with you? They’re about as ethically sourced as you can get, I mean… people donated the blood, and it’s technically going to good use.” Taking a step towards them, he smiled. His first, genuine, unfiltered smile. When he had been human, every act of kindness had gone unnoticed, he had undeniably taken them for granted. Now that he was a vampire, as his problems seemed to triple in weight, and intensity, so did his gratitude. His acknowledgement of the fact that nobody was obligated to help him. People chose to. It meant more than he would ever be able to say. “Yeah, I guess you weren’t the worst person either.” He joked, mimicking their tone. “Even if you did drag me away from a bar just to waste thirty minutes in some dusty old building.”

The gentle air that danced around Milo was a little nauseating. Or was that what the hunger was doing? Metzli couldn’t tell. It couldn’t be denied though, Milo was being genuine and even a little protective. All this shown in the way he readied himself to catch them if they needed. As time ticked on, he continued to baffle them. From his kindness to his humor, he was someone they could tolerate to have around. Hell, Metzli needed more vampire friends. “You got a deal, kid.” They answered, fully committing to seeing Milo again. “So long as you don’t get me into this mess again. Otherwise, you’re on you’re own.” A raspy chuckle slipped through their lips, pain and exhaustion motivating their every sound.

Metzli thought about Milo’s offer, albeit briefly, before quickly saying no. “Nah. I’m gonna be fine. No sense in going into another vamp’s territory, and I don’t take handouts anyway.” Pride was something of a fault of theirs. They could dish it out no problem, but the second someone tried to help them, it was a no-go. It felt off, it felt wrong. “You’re lucky I dragged you in here. That dude almost staked me. It was the best thirty minutes of your life and you know it,” They barked back playfully.

Taking a few steps, they managed to finally get their stride steady enough to feel like they could get home. “I’m heading home. Got a cat waiting for me,” Metzli said tiredly. “Try not to get into too much trouble, all right? Keep the flask. I got more anyway.” Using the wall momentarily, they navigated themselves toward an exit.

Milo pointedly raised his eyebrows, crossing his arms over his chest when he was confident Metzli wouldn’t need his help to stay standing. “Excuse you, I was just innocently enjoying a drink, okay? If anything you dragged me into this.” Pleased to hear a laugh escape them, he still wasn’t entirely sure they were well enough to make it home, but he was in no place to demand to escort them. He hated to admit it, but that really would be like a toddler trying to babysit an adult. Unable to understand why anybody would ever turn down an offer of something they were craving, especially something that was being offered free of charge, it hit him that if maybe he was able to do what Metzli was doing right now, he wouldn’t have been killed. After all, the only reason he had been chosen by the asshole who decided to turn him was the fact that he had a rather reckless habit of saying yes to anything, and anyone. It was for that reason he decided not to argue with them, not to try and force the bloodbags on them and pull them back to his apartment. They deserved to keep their agency, he refused to disrespect that.

“Hm, territory.” He laughed, unable to help himself. It sounded so ridiculous, he was still struggling to get used to the animalistic terms that seemed to be so popular among the vampire and werewolf communities. His apartment definitely didn’t feel like his territory, he wondered vaguely whether Harsh ever viewed it in such a possessive way. “No shit he almost staked you, but I distinctly remember you deciding to take him on. You didn’t need to be such a drama queen, you know.” His smile growing, becoming an outright grin at the mention of a cat, he thought of Summer, and Quinn waiting for him back in his bedroom. No doubt they would start begging him for food the moment he wandered through the door. “And I have two mice waiting for me.” He admitted, swiping the flask from where he had set it down, more than happy to accept the drink. Hurrying to fall into step beside Metzli as they began to make their way towards the exit, he pointedly linked his arm through theirs, surprised to find the physical contact didn’t feel awkward, or uncomfortable. “I’m making sure you get out of this forest, and then you’re free to do whatever…” He insisted, making it clear they weren’t allowed to say no to him. As soon as they reached the town he would begrudgingly be forced to let Metzli go, but he was beginning to see the vampire as a friend, and as much as he could let his friends down sometimes, he did his best to look out for them.

The support Milo gave Metzli startled them a bit. Usually on the first meeting, they fucked up enough to get either yelled at or completely dismissed. Every little quip they made did nothing to deter the young vampire from being around them. “Fine,” they muttered, reluctantly accepting the help. Just this once, they’d accept it. Just this once. They were too tired to protest anyway.

Slowly, the two managed their way back so they could say their goodbyes. Long before they arrived, Metzli had already decided they would make an effort to see the kid again. Whether it was for fun or for another encounter like this, they didn’t know. White Crest had a way of surprising them in that regard.

[razorblade180]

interdimensional Dads 4

Jaune:Who’s Next?

Jaune:Pick a number from one to a thousand.

Jaune:Since you married Yang it’s either 69

Jaune:Or 420, but because it you I’m gonna with 7

Jaune:Purple gets to go.

Jaune:....Oh did you- oh I see. That’s stupid. I like how he got the answer but it’s stupid.

Jaune:Hate to break it to you all but I can already tell that I’m probably the least interesting here. My Remnant doesn’t have anything crazy going on.

Jaune: Lucky you. We just wanna relax.

Jaune:Hehe, anyways I started dating Blake when we were at Beacon. Well I guess technically we didn’t date but we went on a lot of dates because we liked similar things. Music, tea, some books.

Jaune:Filth!

Jaune:*red* It’s been called that, yes. It’s something nice to bond over.

Jaune:Bond over, or bind over?

Jaune:I’m surprised you didn’t say bondage over.

Jaune:So scandalous. How grown of you.

Jaune:What would your dear parents think? Oh the shock!

Jaune:Why am I the one getting picked on!? You guys would literally find a similar interest in it!

Jaune:We know, it’s just funny seeing you red. Please continue.

Jaune:I can’t imagine the trip around the world was dramatically different. Reuniting with Blake was super comforting. We finally started officially dating after she scared me half to death at Argus. After beating Salem I decided to go with her back home after visiting my folks. Her parents were stunned to see yet another blonde-

Jaune:Sun or Yang?

Jaune:Both...you see, they new Sun for obvious reasons. Yang was a little more....how to put it?

Jaune:....She was in love with her too, wasn’t she?

A strange feeling of guilt and sadness filled the air.

Jaune:Yang and Blake were always pretty close, more so than with me in certain aspects. They were partners so of course it would be like amd with all the stuff that happened between them since Beacon, Yang falling in love with her was so easy to see. It wasn’t like it was one sided either, but those aspects, the knitty gritty hardships they shared? Sometimes sharing all that history makes it hard to have a normal relationship. So Yang took it pretty rough when we officially got together.

Jaune:That must’ve been a rough pill to swallow.

Jaune:It definitely was awkward at first l and a little bit of animosity. But eventually overtime it got better, until it didn’t... Blake and I had a kid. Our quiet little Lucas. Yang never out right said anything but having him and seeing us, me have a life with Blake brought sadness along with whatever happiness she did have for us. So she barely visits; she’s still kind when does though but it’s hard not to see that she would rather be somewhere else.

Jaune:Damn that’s....that’s rough. I couldn’t imagine my life without Yang. She’s practically my best friend at this point; always there to pick me up.

Jaune:Yeah she’s been a real life saver for me too.

Jaune:She’s my wife so it goes without saying that a world where she doesn’t want to be around me or Blake for that matter is pretty crazy. Do you at least have Ruby, Weiss, Ren and Nora?

Jaune:Yeah they’re around doing their own thing and we take turns visiting. Ruby tried to act like a bridge between us and Yang and it works for the most part. It’s rough but not as rough as it sounds. But any who, I guess I should talk about Lucas now.

Jaune:Before that, I couldn’t help but notice that you sound a little more...proper than the rest of us.

Jaune:*red* I’m always running into some important faunus that meets with Blake about equal rights stuff. It’s very weird being the only human around sometimes so I try extra hard not to say anything dumb. Don’t you have to meet with wealthy people a bunch?

Jaune:Yeah. They no better than to give me a hard time, or Weiss will kill them. They are very aware of the name ice queen.

Jaune:Ah.....Weiss. *smiles*

Jaune:So joe is your kid? I bet he’s as driven as his mother!

Jaune:*puts head on table* That boy has zero motivation! If you don’t bother him then he’ll lay around all day and sleep like a....well like a cat!

Jaune:Yikes...

Jaune:To be fair, I understand why. His semblance shows him various glimpses of the future that he’s never been able to complete control. Sometimes it activates without warning so it’s not uncommon for him to know something coming up. Poor guy can’t even finish a book sometimes without seeing his future self reading the ending.

Jaune:No wonder he has not motivation. The spice of life is being spoiled for him!

Jaune:Lucas is such a bright kid, a little bit awkward at times but he’s kind too. It’s a real bummer to see him in this constant slump. It’s not small things that get spot either. There are times he’s seen accidents happen and could do nothing to stop it, or the vision was so vague he didn’t know what was going on until it was too late. The world becomes pretty anxiety inducing if all you see is potential accidents.

Jaune:Potential?

Jaune:Yeah, it’s possible to avoid his visions. They aren’t set in stone by any means. He’s seen me beat him up in sparring and then didn’t show up. He’s walked out into the ocean before out of nowhere and speared a barracuda that he says “would’ve been bothersome later.” A family went swimming later on in that area. Still wish he went outside just to smell the roses though.

Jaune:Sounds frustrating, I feel for him. I don’t think my mind could function.

Jaune: I don’t think his is if he’s becoming a shut in. Maybe therapy or something? What does Blake think about all of this?

Jaune:Blake can convince him more than I can to move around more consistently. She’s always checking in out of nowhere and making sure both of us are doing well. This girl video chatted one time just to see if anything done anything fun, then forced us to find something fun to do if we haven’t. She knows if we’re left alone then we start stewing in our own thoughts way too much.

Jaune:That’s actually really sweet.

Jaune:I know! I can’t believe that’s my wife! We call her to make sure she takes a break from work or else she’ll work through lunch. We are basically tripping and picking each other up, it’s such a weird mess hehehe. That’s family though. It gets a little tense but nothing we can’t handle. Especially Lucas, I got a feeling his slump is about to turn into a rollercoaster.

Jaune:What makes you say that?

Jaune:Well....

xxxx

On a sunny day in menagerie a beautiful young girl looks up at the sky with complete serenity and wonder. It’s so blue, so simple, yet so fulfilling.

“You ever look at the sky and just wish you could touch it?” Her gaze drops to in front of her to see a very unamused Lucas.

“No, no I don’t.”

“That’s too bad. Are you more of a deep blue see guy or...”

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to know my bodyguard.”

“Still not your bodyguard.” He groaned. “Can you focus on not moving. I have three shots at this.”

“I bet you’ll get it right first try, no pressure.”

Lucas’s eye twitched as the girl gave him a big smile in her frayed harness, fifty feet from the ground. The boy angled his feet on the unsecured steel beam just enough to distribute his weight evenly.

“You and I have very different viewpoints on tense situations...” He slowly leaned forward with his hands stretched out. “Grab my hands at the same time.”

“Is it bad I wanna know what happens if I don’t?”

Her question was meant with stressful silence and anxious looks that only made her smile. “Just kidding, I can’t grab your hands at the same time when they’re trembling. Lighten up a little.”

“You do know this is your life right now?”

“Yeah I know. Hey, you single?”

That came out of nowhere. He folded his ears, flustered and confused. “What does that have to do with-”

The girl suddenly grabbed his hands. “Boom, you stopped trembling. That’s what I call team-” the harness snapped. The feeling of complete weightlessness took her for a moment before gravity came to pull her down. It was in that second Lucas yanked her close, her body in his arms.

He slowly slid backwards onto sturdy ground and then felt a strong breeze that was more than enough to sever the beam from the rest. The girl gasped.

“The workers!”

“Don’t worry.” He looked over the edge to see all of them far away and the beam falling right into their massive pile of dirt he told them to put down. Lucas let out a long sigh before looking at the girl.

She raised her eyebrow. “You haven’t answered my question yet.”

He groaned again. Go for a walk they said. It would do you some good they said. Now I’m dealing with this.

“I’m single.”

“Cool, I’m not.” She giggled.

“.....” He slowly nodded. “I should drop you.”

“But you won’t.”

“Sadly....”

Part 3

[bi-rising]

hey I just saw your post about PCOS being a hormonal issue not a gyno one while I was surfing the tag. I was diagnosed a couple months back and all my gyno did was a 2 min ultrasound and then prescribed me birth control. I would like to have actual help and more info on it but I'm not sure who I'm supposed to go to for that. Seeing as you were in a similar situation I'd appreciate your help.

seems like gynos really suck with pcos, don't they? 🥴 warning you now, this is going to be a very long post, because i'm essentially writing out absolutely everything i did and everything i've learned, so strap in for a ride aldksfjasldf

the first thing to do is research, research, research. i spent a whole week constantly on pcos websites (such as pcosaa and this article, tho fair warning, the article does use academic speech so it might not be the easiest thing to read) and watching videos and doing what i could to inform myself. the way you can know if you're looking at a credible resource is how the source defines pcos: does it pose it as a reproductive system disorder? or an endocrine (hormonal) disorder? if it talks about it as a reproductive system disorder, then it's probably wrong.

please note that i am not, obviously, a medical professional, but this is how i understand pcos works. i'll use me as an example just so i can use first person perspective, but it applies to pcos patients in general.

so, my cells are insulin resistant. that means that when i eat, my body releases, lets say, 100 (x measurement) of insulin. because my cells are insulin resistant, they say "hey, i'm only gonna use 50x of that insulin". but they still NEED that 100x to function. so my body releases ANOTHER 100x of insulin, so my cells go "ok i'll take 50x" and so while my cells now have the 100x they're supposed, to i now have 100x insulin floating around.

that extra insulin not only wreaks havoc on many systems of the body, it is the reason why most people with pcos that goes untreated end up with type 2 diabetes. the extra insulin is also converted (or spurs the creation of? i'm not entirely certain on the how here) into testosterone and other androgen (male) hormones. so your body has too much insulin, and now it has too much testosterone, too. that extra testosterone is what fucks with your reproductive system and prevents the follicles on your ovaries from maturing (which is what the 'cysts' are). it also often creates increased facial hair, acne (especially on the 'beard line'), and worse body odor. between the testosterone and the insulin, it's nigh impossible to lose weight.

also note that because your body has to release more insulin for your cells to get an adequate amount, you likely crave carbs and sugars (salty/crunchy things and sweets), and you're likely frequently fatigued, bc your body isn't, well, working correctly and it's taking more energy to perform basic functions.

secondly, take all this information that you know to your doctor. i legitimately wrote down some notes about this process in a little notebook and took it with me so that i wouldn't forget/get too anxious to bring any of it up. i also wrote down the things i had been doing to help up to that point (working out, what my diet was, etc etc) and what i was concerned about. lastly, i also wrote down what medications and supplements i had heard of in my research to see what my doctor thought of them.

my doctor's first 'attack' choice is ozempic--it's a weekly shot that helps to regulate insulin levels and also is pretty good at helping weight loss. be aware though that most commercial insurances don't pay for this, but if your doctor is good, they'll try to work around that so that you're not paying a frankly outrageous amount for it. also look out for sometime this fall, my doc said that the ozempic manufacturers are trying to get ozempic approved for weight loss (it's approved for other things) and that should help bring the price down?? anyway, that's my doc's preferred method, but because of my finances, we currently can't do that.

his second attack, which i'm now on, is metformin. it's a medication mostly used for diabetics that helps with blood sugar levels which, again, is that insulin issue. my mom has been on it for 14 years bc diabetes runs in our family anyway, so it's perfectly safe for long time use and definitely helps with keeping either away from or within the pre-diabetes phase. again, i've only been on it now two days so i can't say anything for me but we'll see how it goes lmao

he also approved of me using omega 3 (fish pills) supplements because they help balance things out in general, not just pcos, and he was good with me using spearmint, too. i'm starting out on one cup of spearmint tea a day and see how that effects me, but i've heard of people having up to two spearmint supplement pills and a cup of spearmint tea a day, too. spearmint is a 'defense', as far as i can explain it: it has (tho limited) research that it lowers the testosterone levels in women with pcos. so while it doesn't help with the insulin so it doesn't attack the source, it can help with the testosterone aspect, aka facial hair, acne, etc. i've also heard of cinnamon supplements and inositol supplements helping, but i didn't get a chance to ask about either of those from my doctor, so make sure if you want to give those a try, you talk about them and make sure they won't interfere with any of your other medications and get your doctor's approval on them, first.

thirdly, ask about what else you can do to help yourself. my doctor stressed the importance of a proper night's sleep, as well as advised to try to cut back on carbs and sugars (IMPORTANT NOTE: some people claim that you HAVE to be on a keto diet to get results with pcos. WRONG. please don't do this. keto diets are entirely unsustainable. and cutting back on carbs and sugars does not mean cutting them OUT, it just means if you want a snack, try reaching for a protein or a vegetable instead of a carb. but don't limit yourself!! please, be conscious about what you eat, and remember that sometimes yeah, a slice of cake or a serving of chips isn't going to kill you or set your pcos back. don't risk getting an e.d. just for the sake of your pcos). he also told me that the best exercise that i personally should do is either HIIT exercises or cardio, and to do at least an hour a day, even if it's 30 mins in the morning, 30 in the evening--and to work up to that so even doing ten minutes a day, then increasing it from there, is healthier and better than jumping straight into a whole ass hour. he also told me to aim for a certain heartrate. i don't remember the formula he used, but for me at 22 (based on age) he wanted me to try to aim for 150-160 bpm. again, especially with exercise, that was what he recommended for me. you're likely different from me, so ask your doctor and see what he says.

fourthly, and perhaps most importantly, DON'T BOTHER WITH A GYNO. all of this that i've gotten done for me was from my family doctor, so just the guy i go to for yearly check ups. see if you can do some routine blood work to give him (or her) as wide of a picture as possible, and then go in and talk with a regular doctor about this. a friend of mine also has a friend who actually goes to an endocrinologist to get her pcos sorted out, so that's also an option. gynos seem to just treat the symptoms; birth control gives you a regular period by helping with your estrogen, but that doesn't decrease your testosterone OR do anything with the insulin. my doc is keeping me on birth control pills just so that i have a regular cycle so we can watch and see if anything else happens to it, so it's okay to stay on the birth control, but ultimately, birth control pills don't do anything for pcos.

i know it's difficult and probably kinda scary/anxiety inducing if you're younger or just have anxiety, but you've gotta advocate for yourself in this case. you have to show the doctor that you know what you're talking about and that you're able to call him out on his bullshit if he doesn't take you seriously. also, if your doctor is helpful, don't be afraid to be frank with him about what your gyno did. like i've said with my experience, i got the validation of knowing that my gyno was wrong by explaining to my doctor how he treated me. you deserve better than what your gyno did, and you deserve to actually be treated as a person and your disorder be taken seriously.

i'm wishing you the best of luck, and i hope that you'll be able to get the help that you need 💕💕💕

[bleuberrygliscor]

maybe having a friend come w you to get your vaccine will help? just to talk to and get your attention off it as much as possible while its happening. i dont have a fear of needles, but when I got my first shot the person doing it started conversation with me and I didnt realize it was just to distract me while they did it. idk if that will help in any way for you, but it's just an idea?

Normally when I have to get blood work or shots done I do take someone with me! The last time I had my lovely boyfriend restrain me like a cat in the vet, damn near full nelson so that I don't kick and mess up the needle, that's...how bad I get.

But! In my post-stress vom haze and anxiety induced insomnia googling I found that they are actually working on alternate means to injected vaccines! There is currently a pill form in development as well as a patch and possibly a nasal spray as well! I am upset no one was talking about this, but now all of my trypanophobia friends don't need to worry about having a meltdown in front of a whole room full of people ٩(๑❛ヮ❛๑)و

[mydecoris]

CBD For Yoga Practitioners and Sportsmen

Although CBD and CBD based products might look like new kid on the block, its usage can be traced back to ancient times in India where it still can be found growing wildly in most parts of the northern mountains & plains.

It is true that there have been many misconceptions regarding Hemp and CBD mostly because they come from rather notorious Marijuana plant but after some recent researches it can be said with some authority today that most of them are unfounded. It is especially true in case of CBD because it doesn’t contain the properties of giving that ‘high’ to its consumer because that power belongs to its cousin called THC (Tetrahydrocannabinols).

CBD today is therefore legal to buy and sell in many countries around the world and that includes India too provided the THC content in the product is less than .3%. And Marijuana is one of the most versatile plant ever known, it can be used in several ways- from creating different psychoactive products from its flowers and leaves, to weaving clothes from the yarn obtained from its stem to building houses out of its sturdiness. Its cousin industrial hemp is already getting cultivated in large scale in different parts of the world.

Oil extracted from its seeds called hemp seed oil can be used in a variety of ways- from cooking to dressing of salads and what not. Same is true for CBD oil. In combination with other carrier oil such as MCT or coconut oil, a lot of CBD oil based products are being manufactured today that include various therapeutic oils, soaps, ointments, shampoos, bath essentials, skincare and various related and diverse products.

CBD is also available in raw or dewaxed form as tinctures and oils in diverse flavours and it is known to cure various ailments such as anxiety, depression, acute & chronic pains and inflammations, seizures, epilepsy, autism etc. among many others. In recent times, there is a lot of research that has taken place on the miraculous effects of CBD but there’s a lot more that needs to be done.

But still, going by anecdotal references and certain recent researches, it can prove to be very useful for people who lead an active life, people such as sportsmen and Yoga instructors and practitioners or those suffering from certain ailments.

So let us  delve a bit deeper in the mysterious world of CBD:

Basics Of CBD:

There are cannabinoids that are found in CBD. They are naturally occurring compounds found in the Cannabis Sativa plant. CBD or Cannabidiol is the phytocannabinoid found naturally in the plant and unlike THC that is also found in the same plant, is not psychoactive. And another fact is, cannabinoids also exist in our body.

Scientists have identified what they call the endocannibinoid system (ECS) that modulates the activity of neurons. Recent researches prove that

the consumption of CBD could increase the activity of our body’s existing endocannabinoid system.

The primary purpose of the ECS appears to be maintaining homeostasis, which it does by keeping neurotransmitter levels in check. Being a Yoga practitioner and an athlete we apply greater stress to our body and it sometimes lead to pain and inflammation greater than what our endocannabinoid system can handle. Adding exogenous CBD may help this overloaded system get our neurotransmitters back under control and help us in maintaining homeostasis.

6 Benefits of CBD for Athletes and Yoga Practitioners

It relieves Pain

Studies have shown that CBD is effective for reducing pain, including musculoskeletal pain from exercise or Yoga, as well as stiff joints.Though there is little research on CBD alone it does appear to relieve pain effectively for many active people.

It is an alternative to NSAIDs

Over-the-counter non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs (NSAIDs) like ibuprofen have widely been used by athletes for decades, but researches have shown that they are not safe.So athletes are typically advised to avoid NSAIDs during sessions and events, as long-term or frequent use of NSAIDs may increase our risk for heart attack and stroke.

Some athletes have found the pain relieving effect of CBD can reduce or eliminate their use of NSAIDS for exercise-related pain, with minimal side effects.

It is an alternative to Opioids

Opioid pain medications (i.e. morphine, codeine, oxycontin) are highly effective for pain management, but carry a significant risk of addiction and death by overdose. Cannabinoids are not as effective as opioids for relieving acute, high-intensity pain, but may be effective for long-term pain management – either alone or in conjunction with other medications – with far less risk of dependence or accidental death.

It reduces inflammation

A little bit of inflammation can be good for athletes and help stimulate positive training adaptations. Too much inflammation hinders recovery and hurts performance. Researches have shown that there are CB2 receptors in both the brain and periphery, but they are more concentrated in immune tissues. Cannabinoids binding to CB2 receptors may have an anti-inflammatory effect by reducing cytokine (cell messengers) production. In other words, CBD bound to CB2 receptors help dial down the response when our immune system sounds the alarm after hard workouts.

It Settles our gut

Inflammation in the small and large intestines causes a lot of discomfort, and our gut problems can be enhanced during or after a session or training. Although CBD won’t solve our stomach problems that may arise from dehydration and overheating (two major causes in athletes and Yoga trainers), but if we have underlying inflammation issues that contribute to gut problems during or after exercise, CBD may be effective for reducing our symptoms.

It improves Sleep Quality

Getting more and better sleep is one of the most effective ways an athlete can achieve greater training gains. It is equally true for a Yoga practitioner. Anecdotally, those who consume CBD report greater ease going to sleep and a more restful night’s sleep. CBD is found to slow down brain activity, helping us feel calmer, and induce sleep.

Also,CBD may also have a potent anti-anxiety effect for some people, which can help them get to sleep and have more restful sleep.

How to use CBD

New CBD-containing products can be found all over the internet market these days. You can get CBD in the form of capsules, pills, or as an oil or tincture.  It has been infused into sports drinks, recovery drinks, and all manner of edibles. There are also topical creams and lotions that contain CBD oil, as well as oil drops that can be placed under your tongue.

How you consume CBD may affect how quickly you experience its effects. Capsules, oil, and edibles have to be digested, so they may take a bit longer. Topical creams are said to be quicker than edibles, and sublingual drops/tinctures are said to be the most rapid in showing any effect.

CBD is available as “full spectrum” or “isolate”. Full spectrum CBD products contain CBD and other compounds found in the original plant, which could include small amounts of THC. If the CBD was derived from industrial hemp, the THC content of the original plant is legally supposed to be less than .3%. Products that contain CBD isolate should only contain CBD. CBD isolate and CBD produced from hemp would be a better choice for those who want to play safe.

How much CBD to use

Actually, there is no standard dose that delivers a consistent effect for all people. CBD products are not well regulated, so there can be inconsistencies in how much CBD is in a product. And depending on how you consume CBD (oil, gummy bear, cookie, recovery drink, tincture), it can be difficult to be precise. The most precise way to consume CBD is probably through capsules, or by calculating how many milligrams of CBD are in a given volume (such as ml.) of a tincture or oil.

Companies that produce and sell CBD products recommend starting with a low dose and gradually increasing it based on the effects you experience.

Conclusion

The emergence of cannabidiol could mark a major turning point in how athletes and Yoga practitioners recover from training stress and manage both occasional and chronic pain. But still, there is a lot still to learn about how CBD works and how to best utilize for a physically active person. That is not unusual, though. Back when carbohydrate-rich sports drinks first came out, it was clear they were helping improve performance even if the formulas weren’t perfect and the mechanisms weren’t all known.

Although it is not a banned substance for athletes and people in general, if it actually contains a significant amount of THC or other prohibited substance, you are at risk for a doping violation. As with anything else, it will be up to you to research and find a reputable brand.

With what we know at this point, CBD offers good potential benefits and few risks. If it improves recovery as a pain reliever, anti-inflammatory, and sleep aid, then it has great potential to improve athletic performance and treat various elements.

On our part, we have a collection of CBD oils and CBD & hemp products that are produced by most reputable companies with good track record and most positive reviews. You can buy various CBD and Hemp products from HERE.

As some of the CBD oils also contain THC in various measures, you need to have a doctor’s prescription to buy the same. You can book a Doctor’s appointment on Decoris from HERE and go ahead to buy CBD as prescribed from HERE.

[fitnesmasterlab]

Cinderella Diet Solution Review 2021! Is Cinderella Scam or Best Diet System?

Cinderella Diet Solution Review 2021! Is Cinderella Scam or Best Diet System?

The Cinderella Solution is a reducing weight solution for women who already tried other systems but did not succeed. Anyone can lose some pounds. They just have to remove those belly fats.

The main challenge is that when the weight comes back. It is unusual for some people to gain more weight after doing some diet. It results in a woman being emotionally stressed because that situation can lose her confidence, self-esteem, and the need to be socially active.

Using this Cinderella Solution will help you to create healthy eating habits. Anyhow, it will also teach you about the importance of food and how it can energize your body. Click on this link to discover the right information about customizing plans in reaching your body goals.

1) What is Cinderella Solution?

The Cinderella answer diet weight loss program guarantees to assist you slim half a dozen times quicker than today’s preferred industrial diets while not one calorie count, intake “comfort-food” looks 10-20 years younger. The Cinderella answer diet may be the best setup that mixes weight loss with terribly specific exercises.

These exercises don't seem to be cardio exercises. Rather, they're terribly distinctive, during which there's plenty of fat in this part of the body, and ladies wish to slim. above all, the exercises delineate within the system transcend the abdominal tissues, buttocks, and hips. in line with the system’s creator, Carly Donovan expressed that 3 hormones are accountable for a woman’s weight gain.

The Cinderella answer weight loss twenty-eight days program on the market as a series of PDF & e-book. you'll transfer them now when buying the setup. additionally, just like the easiest method to transfer PDF files, the program is often accessed through smartphones, tablets, desktops, or alternative smartphone devise.

Carly found that girls in alternative elements of the planet were able to eat foods high in calories, fat, and carbohydrates while not losing weight. She finds out that it had been not for the ladies WHO were intake. it had been a mixture of foods.

She created a design for ladies WHO lost weight. She combined this with a delicate. low-impact exertion arranges to come back up with a good weight loss and fat reduction program answer.

Not solely this however you furthermore may get a 60-day money-back guarantee. So, If you're unsure whether or not to eat a correct diet and do a selected series of exercises to spice up your metabolism, then you've got time to check it.

Official Website: Click Here to get access

2) HOW DOES THE CINDERELLA SOLUTION DIET WORK?

The entire Cinderella answer program for weight loss lasts twenty-eight days. Carly Donovan engineered it around the Japanese Shoku-Iko, a term that stands for biological process coming up with. Shoku-Iko sets the food and flavor pairing pointers in an exceeding thanks to facilitating come through a balance of hormones and body metabolism. Besides, the flavor pairing aims to reinforce the inner balance and make sure that the body is internally sturdy

The phases of Cinderella answer embody the subsequent

Official Website: Click Here to get access

#1 Ignite

The first fourteen days of Cinderella’s answer start with the primary section, Ignite. this is often in the Associate in Nursing educating section wherever you may learn the importance and therefore the roles of biological process food in your weight loss journey.

You will conjointly find out about a customized design wherever you'll follow within the next few days.

This design can stabilize the hormones in your body and therefore the weight loss triggers in your body square measure turned on.

The overall goal of the primary section of Cinderella answer flavor pairing pdf is for you to melt off while not having to require supplements, pills, or exercise and simply only target your food intake.

#2 Launch

The next fourteen days once finishing Ignite is introducing a good variety of food combos to your daily design.

The program then recommends you require four meals on a daily basis following the steered design of the Cinderella answer design program.

In this section, the fat burning method in your body is boosted and you're ready to melt off quickly whereas making certain your system is healthy and supported to avoid you obtaining sick or feeling weak.

3) Who is the creator of Cinderella Solution Diet?

Carly Donovan may be a marvelous girl UN agency created the Cinderella resolution weight loss Program. She may be a regular one who has done intensive analysis on fitness, nutrition, and weight loss. She has dedicated her life to serving others UN agency wishes to induce in form and keep that over the future. several weight loss programmers rent a fitness guru or celebrity to endorse their system despite ne'er truly exploiting it.

Now, She spends her days and thru this program helps thousands of ladies to try and do one thing that minimizes the consequences of secretion imbalance. one in all the only most wonderful facts concerning Cinderella Solution’s author. She isn't solely a fitness guru or professional. Rather, She is that the production of real girls, UN agency goes through the struggles of weight gain ensuing from metabolic or secretion imbalances and therefore the problems that accompany it.

Official Website: Click Here to get access

4) Benefits of Cinderella Solution

Cinderella resolution is intended specifically for ladies WHO square measure troubled to turn and troubled regarding their health and look. This straightforward to follow and property diet set up can facilitate such girls within the end of the day and alter them to not solely remodel their bodies however their lives. when consistent use of this diet, they'll a lot of assured in life.

All women, notwithstanding their age, will get pleasure from this diet. it's a secure and natural thanks to turning, and that they don't get to worry regarding any reasonably negative side-effects either. particularly those girls WHO have lost hope when attempting the normal weight loss strategies ought to do that out and see the results.

Lose weight 6 times faster than today’s most popular commercial diet without counting a single calorie…

Look and feel 10-20 years younger by eating the “comfort-food” TV Doctors are getting paid to say is unhealthy…

Official Website: Click Here to get access

5) Why is Cinderella’s solution higher than different Diet Programs?

In distinction to several ancient thought diets, Cinderella resolution is safe, easy, and effective. There isn’t any harmful merchandise concerned, and there's no have to be compelled to get exhausted for hours invaluable gyms either. simply following the easy and straightforward diet arrangement can facilitate girls’ change state with no negative aspect effects.

6) What is the key Science Behind the Cinderella Solution?

The most popular diet area unit supported a fat-blasting approach. However, Cinderella’s diet focuses a lot on why the fats area unit holds on within the body within the 1st place. analysis reveals that 3 area unit hormones in a very woman’s body have an effect on their metabolism- corticoid, insulin, and estrogen. For Carly, these areas unit Queen, beauty, and youth hormones, severally. With aging, associate imbalance in these hormones leads to weight gain, anxiety, depression, and plenty of different problems that girls face.

Official Website: Click Here to get access

7) What do can folks get with Cinderella Solution?

The Cinderella resolution contains a manual that's a 93-page eBook in PDF format. It contains all the required data folks should grasp before they begin this distinctive diet program. This manual is additionally smart to know metabolism and weight loss hormones. Besides, there's a food arrange section still that has all the necessary details regarding the food and mixtures that may be used.

Other than a manual, folks also will get a fast beginning Guide if they are doing not need to scan the manual at the start. they will use this fast begin guide to find out a couple of necessary things solely, to begin with, the diet, and that they will continue reading the manual later. Moreover, there's a Food Lover’s instruction Playbook still, alongside a 22-page course instruction book severally.

The Cinderella resolution Accelerator is additionally given as a bonus. It contains the most effective success stories and offers folks the motivation to begin and follow this diet arrangement. It comes with a 21-day Kick-Start Nutrition Guide, Accelerator Main Manual, associated with an Accelerator Movement Sequencing Book. these things facilitate girls to perceive their bodies higher and provide them a good beginning.

Lastly, there area unit some video tutorials still for girls UN agency would like a lot of facilities. It comes alongside an effort Video Library that may be accessed on-line. Any girl UN agency properly studies and understands the method and systematically follows the rules and workouts can get wonderful results. there's nothing too troublesome or difficult. simply consistency and commitment area unit all that girls would like.

Official Website: Click Here to get access

8) Is Cinderella’s solution Safe?

As already mentioned, Cinderella resolution is among the safest and however best and fast weight loss programs. it's supported the natural manner of losing weight and doesn't encourage its users to use any harmful medicine or medicines. Moreover, it's easy and straightforward to follow, which makes it property within the long.

9) What is the price of Cinderella Solution?

People attempt many alternative valuable diet plans and throw cash in futile supplements and valuable athletic facility subscriptions. In distinction, Cinderella’s resolution is well cheap, and anyone will get pleasure from it. the overall price of the fundamental package is simply $37 and comes with a 60-day “Glass Slipper” money-back guarantee. folks will learn a lot regarding totally different packages and offer on the official website of the program.

Official Website: Click Here to get access

10) Final finding – Cinderella solution Review

We can conclude that the Cinderella resolution may be safe, effective, and fast thanks to changing state. many ladies area unit benefitting from this revolutionary program. it's a far higher possibility than several different alternatives, and every one girl eager to change state ought to do that program. Visit Official Cinderella resolution web site Here

Official Website:

Click Here to get access

just looking at these stories makes me so emotional,

Thinking about all the women still struggling to lose

weight when the true solution is actually

so simple, so safe, and so effective.

Official Website: Click Here to get access

Remember

You only get one body and one life

and you deserve to have the fairy-tale ending that so many of my “Cinderella success stories” have already experienced...

You too can use the 2 simple tricks that promote shocking increases in bone-density without ever picking up a heavy set of weights, while pumping-up collagen production and skin elasticity - WITHOUT EVER going under the knife.

Such as Women in their late 40’s and 50’s and even 60’s

like Beth, Cheryl, and Kathy who turned back the clock by saying NEVER AGAIN to the fad diets that actually speed up the aging process...

.....and said, “YES PLEASE” to Cinderella’s proven Flavor-Pairing rituals that finally confirm that “age” is really just a number.

Want to see more result just click over here

[octothorpetopus]

Ten Minutes

minnesotamemelord on AO3

The first time Klaus Hargreeves overdosed, he was fifteen and a half years old. One of his best friends was dead. The other, gone. Disappeared into oblivion. Which fate was worse, he hadn't quite decided.

The year was 2005, and his world was condensing around him, getting smaller and smaller. First it was down to 8 people. Then 7. He knew nothing outside of his adopted family, and now even they were leaving him. He knew that wasn't really what was happening, but he couldn't help but feel that it was. And it certainly didn't help that Ben kept popping up everywhere he looked. Despite his father's attempts, he'd never quite gotten over his fear of the dead, which was unfortunate given that the one thing he'd always known made him special was his ability to commune with them. His life was a series of ticking time bombs, only he couldn't hear the beeps or see the timers. The only thing he had to go off of was the gnawing feeling in his gut that told him, This? It's all going away. It won't last. All he wanted was to disarm the bombs and get rid of the anxiety that followed him everywhere. But there was no way to do that. Well, there was one. But that was a last resort.

And yet, when all was said and done, all he seemed to have left were last resorts.

The Academy, despite being an enormous mansion, was not in a particularly nice area of town, so the third alleyway Klaus checked had exactly what he was looking for. He forked out a roll of cash, for which he had exchanged one of his father's gold plaques. It was for some humanitarian award or another that he didn't deserve, just one out of a dozen, so Klaus didn't think he'd mind. Or notice.

Klaus found himself sitting on the toilet lid, a tiny plastic bag in his hand, and in the bag were three tiny, white pills. He heard a voice in his head saying, No, Klaus. Don't be an idiot. Except it wasn't in his head. It was directly to the left of his head. Ben. Again. Klaus clenched his eyes shut, refusing to look.

"Go away, go away, go away, go-"

"Saying it isn't going to make me do anything, Klaus."

"-away, go away, go away, go aw-"

"Klaus, listen to me!" The volume raised.

"GO AWAY, GO AWAY, GO AWAY!" With an abrupt scream, Ben vanished and Klaus was once again left sitting alone in the bathroom, staring at the drugs in his hand. One swallow. That's all it would take. Just one.

And just like that, the decision was made. Klaus had never been good at dry-swallowing pills, so he struggled to his feet, suddenly unsteady, and filled the glass on the edge of the sink. One, two, three, he felt the pills slide down his throat. On wobbly legs, he lowered himself into the empty bathtub, stretching his lanky legs out as far as he could, up onto the opposite edge of the tub. He slipped his Walkman on and hit play. The song that came on was that atrocious disco song that Luther loved. It could be heard throughout the house during leisure hours, much to everyone but Luther and Allison's chagrin. And perhaps Grace's.

It didn't make much sense to change it now. Klaus closed his eyes, fell further into the tub, and let himself glide away into limbo.

Before the fog of death and drugs had fully disappeared from Klaus's eyes, before he even recognized where he was, he saw someone sitting next to his bed.

"Ben?" He groaned. It hadn't worked. Or maybe it had, because it wasn't Ben. It was Diego, face solemn and sober (the irony of that word was not lost on Klaus), his eyes downcast. When Klaus moved to prop himself up on his elbows, Diego's head popped up. Without saying a word, he reached over to the table beside him and poured a glass of water. He wrapped Klaus's spindly fingers around it, along with another pair of white pills. "What- what are these?" Klaus coughed twice, his mouth drier than the Sahara.

"Aspirin. Not whatever crap you took that did this to you." Diego's voice seemed to clear some of the cotton stuffing in Klaus's head. He was in the infirmary at the Academy, and he wasn't dead. Those seemed to be the clearest two ideas in his head. Klaus knocked back the drugs and let himself fall backwards on the bed. They sat quietly for a moment.

"What... what happened?"

"You overdosed. Probably would've died if n-n-" Diego groaned, his frustration evident in his every motion as he dragged his hand through his hair and steeled himself. "If not for Mom and Dad."

"But- but I should've-"

"Died? Yeah. You probably should have. But Luther saw you go into the bathroom. Once you'd been in there awhile, he decided to bust down the door. Ripped it off its hinges, really. Saw you, picked you up, and brought you down here. Mom and Dad fixed you up." Diego folded his arms. "What the hell, Klaus? Dad's gonna lose his shit when he sees you. Seriously, I don't know what you were thinking."

"I was thinking that I can't..." Tears rose in Klaus's eyes as he tried his best to fight them down. "I can't deal with this! All these ghosts, everywhere, all the time, I just... can't."

"Hey, hey, I- I'm sorry." Diego had a tendency to be abrasive, but the thing that always endeared him to Klaus was that he knew when to back off. He always did. "Look, don't worry, okay? Dad'll calm down eventually. And in the meantime-" Diego shrugged. "I'll protect you." Klaus grinned, the blinding headache behind his eyes dampening just a bit.

"You're a good brother, Diego. Really."

"Come on, Klaus." Diego rolled his eyes, but he reached over, squeezing Klaus's bony hand. "I should call Dad. Let him know you're up."

"Can you- can you wait? Just five more minutes? I'd really prefer this headache to go down before I get screamed at." Diego nodded.

"Five more minutes." And so they sat, in almost total silence, for five more minutes. They didn't talk, they just sat, Diego's rough hands, scarred from years of knife training, wrapped tightly around Klaus's, as pale as the ghosts he talked to. And when the five minutes were up and Diego called Reginald down to the infirmary, and they got the veritable ball of rage they'd expected, they didn't let go. They were two ships passing in the night, holding on for dear life.

It went pretty much the same way for the next two and a half years. Every six months or so, Klaus would try a new drug, or a little too much of an old one, and he'd wake up in the first floor infirmary. And every time, Diego handed him water and aspirin, and they sat together. Ten minutes, every time, and Diego would tell Klaus who found him, in a way that sort of sounded like they were playing Clue. It was Pogo in the attic, or Allison in the courtyard, or Vanya in the kitchen. More often than not, though, it was the same as the first time. Luther found him in the bathroom, his headphones slipped low over his ears, his legs splayed over the rim of the tub, by a few more inches every time.

And every time, Diego held his hand as Reginald tore Klaus a new one. He couldn't kick Klaus out, he couldn't lose a member of the Academy, but he could make his life hell. Even more hellish than it already was. Klaus's outings were limited to just the block, then just the Academy, until he was confined to his room unless he was on a mission. And yet, he still found his way out, got high, and nearly died, leaving his limp and weak body for one of his siblings to find. Diego never left his side, through all of it, though. Their friendship grew, little by little, starting with sitting together at dinner, to reading together in the library, to doing homework side-by-side at Klaus's desk (Diego always let Klaus copy his math, and Klaus always let Diego copy his English), to Diego nearly being shot while watching Klaus's back on a mission. They were attached at the hip, more brothers than any real brothers they had ever seen. One was rarely without the other.

So it was earth-shattering when Klaus woke up two weeks after his 18th birthday in the infirmary, and nobody was sitting in the chair next to him. The light streaming in through the window clouded his vision, so he squinted, trying to see through the haze, wondering if his vision had failed him after all. But no, it hadn't, and he found himself all alone.

"Diego?" No response. After a moment, he remembered. Diego had been gone for exactly one month, two days, and six hours. He had offered, begged Klaus to come with him, to escape the Academy once and for all. And to be quite honest, Klaus could no longer remember why he'd said no. His best friend in the world was gone, and here he was, in pain, powerless, and virtually alone. It was another half an hour before Reginald came down and berated him again, for the last time. And this time, Klaus had no hand to hold. He clung to himself, trying to block out the wrath directed at him. When the storm ended and the raging sea calmed, Klaus's mind was made up. Diego was gone. So was Vanya. And tomorrow, Klaus would join them. Out in the real world, there might be no one to hold his hand, but there wasn't anyone to keep pushing him back either. So he packed a bag and left. The next morning, he found himself in county jail and he laughed, because this was the first time in three years he'd woken up from a drug-induced coma to nobody screaming.

The year was 2019, and Klaus Hargreeves woke up with a pounding head and sore limbs in the same hospital bed he'd woken up in twice a year when he was a teenager. A glass of water was poured and someone wrapped his weak, bony fingers around it, pressing a pair of pills into his other palm. The haze of light and pain faded out, and déjà vu swept over him.

"Ben?" A low, bitter chuckle.

"Nope." Klaus sighed with relief as he felt a familiar hand, albeit much larger, close around his own. "Take the aspirin, Klaus." With a groan, Klaus tossed back the pills and water and flopped back.

"It's been awhile." Diego nodded.

"Twelve years. Fitting that the first time I'd see you again would be like this." Diego paused, then punched Klaus in the shoulder, hard.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"You're an idiot, Klaus. I thought maybe you'd get your shit together, but you really haven't, have you?"

"Nope. I haven't." Klaus grinned, a broad, shit-eating grin. "Welcome back, D." Diego slid his hand into Klaus's and squeezed. "So, who found me this time?"

"Mom, actually. In the kitchen."

"Shit."

"Yeah." They looked at each other silently. "Dad's not here to yell at you anymore."

"Nope." Klaus looked down. "The bastard's dead."

"Yep. I should probably go tell the others you're okay."

"Right. Of course." Neither one let go.

"Ten more minutes?" Diego kicked his feet up on the edge of the bed.

"Ten more minutes."

[nate-santos]

Where Do You Go? || Nate & Margot

Timeline: Last week Tagging: @boogaloomagoo To be continued on dash

Suddenly Nate couldn’t stand being in his home anymore. But going outside and traveling around town was equally as terrifying as being haunted in his own home by the face that used to look at him with love and kindness and now only wanted to eat him. The chance to stay with someone else, someone who didn’t know about his trauma was so enticing, even if it was a bit weird for him to watch over someone he barely knew. It would certainly make himself feel better, knowing that Margot wouldn’t be wandering around the beach at night without knowing it, but he was well aware how odd he seemed for even offering. Nevertheless, Nate put Alea into her brand new cage, setting her up for bedtime. “G’night love,” he whispered, placing her blanket gently over the cage before forcing himself outside. Unlike the last time, he only had one flashlight with him – well, one light on – as he made his way to the address Margot had given him. He’d packed a big bag of snacks and supplies and more than a few cans of energy drinks. It didn’t take him long to reach her home and he stifled his nerves as he reached out, rapping his knuckles against the door. “H-hey! Margot! It’s Nate! From...online?”

If only it was sleepwalking that Margot currently fretted over. It was a culmination of odd habits she had picked up, some unbeknownst to her at all, apparently. But she wasn’t about to throw all of her theories surrounding the uptick in weird behavior at Nate. At least, not tonight. Thankfully her dad had gone out to Dell’s for the evening - after some rather persistent suggesting on her part - so there wouldn’t be any awkward conflict with a guy being in the house. Well, for a few hours, at least. The blonde had been idly watching television, already in a pair of flannel boxers and a t-shirt, prepped for sleep when she heard the knock. She took a deep breath before rising and making her way towards the door, opening it up and offering Nate a small, if not slightly anxious smile. “Hey, glad you found it alright. Uh, c’mon in,” She stood back to allow him inside, then closed and locked the door behind them. “Hope you brought a Redbull. If not, my dad likes his coffee strong if you can stand the taste.”

Nate tried to smile as confidently as he could. After all, he was here as a guardian of sorts tonight, and he needed to play the part. Sure, he was still overwhelmed with massive anxiety and really hoped that the night went off without a hitch, but when had he been blessed with a normal night in the past few years? “Hi! Yeah,” he pointed to his bag, bulging with cans and small 5 Hour Energies. “Got lots of supplies!” Normally he’d be rambling on and on about how he wasn’t creepy, how everything was gonna be just fine, how he’d make sure she didn’t wind up down on that cursed beach on his watch, but he just...couldn’t. Maybe his online therapy was working! He wasn't using word vomit to mask his anxiety anymore! “So...ready to get a good night’s sleep?” He kept his tone light and cheerful, as if they were just having a normal slumber party. Where one party member stared at the other one all night. Nope, nothing was weird here.

Margot didn’t make a habit out of having people over. She was sure that was evident in the current state of the house - laundered, yet unfolded clothes strewn over the couch, various papers and magazines on almost every surface, dirty dishes in the sink. One could certainly tell that the residence was occupied, but she and her father never made a large fuss over keeping things spic ‘n span. Maybe she should start, if this was going to become a regular thing. Though nothing about this situation felt regular, or normal. Still, she willed herself to relax her shoulders, huffing out a chuckle at his ‘supplies’. “Wow, you really came prepared, huh? Y’know for a second I didn’t really think you were serious, but, you proved me wrong,” And maybe that was a good thing. As she led them into the house, turning off the television while passing the living room, she couldn’t help but mull over his question a little longer than was typical. “I guess. I haven’t really been sleeping much - kind of afraid it’d happen again. But… Yeah, I think I am,” Upstairs, she directed Nate into her room which, surprisingly, was just a little tidier than the rest of the house. “Here, you can take the bean bag,” She hefted the purple sack to the side of her bed, then glanced over to him. “Oh uh, the wifi password’s blackberry201. Hopefully you brought something to keep you occupied when I’m… not up,”

Nate was surprised at how comfortable he felt here. Maybe because it didn’t feel sterile, it felt lived in. His own home felt so...careful in comparison. No clothes strewn about in case he got his feet caught up in them and fell and hit his head, no dishes anywhere because he was too afraid to cook, nothing to really show a human being lived there. This, by comparison, was nice if not a little anxiety inducing. If anything, the state of Margot’s home reminded him how un-normal his life would always be. But he smiled as she led him through the home, landing in her room on the second floor. It was nice, if not a bit weird with him being in it at all. He plopped himself down on the bean bag and carefully began unpacking his supplies: can after can of energy drinks, some books, a few files from work, his phone charger, some flashlights, a fresh first aid kit, and a couple granola bars. “Trust me, I’m all set!” He smiled up at her, wiggling his butt into the chair to emphasize how settled he was. “All you have to worry about is sleep.”

While Nate got himself settled, Margot took to straightening out her covers. Rarely ever did she make her bed after waking up, and being such an active sleeper aside from the past few nights, her sheets and blankets were usually a tangled mess on the regular. When she felt satisfied with the state of them, she glanced back in Nate’s general direction, brows raised at the array of things he’d set out for himself. She couldn’t help the small, bemused smile that appeared on her lips. “And I thought I was someone who always came prepared. You might actually put me to shame,” Sleep. Right. Chuckling softly, the blonde lowered herself into the bed, deciding to leave the covers off for the time being. “Easier said than done but, I uh, took an allergy pill too. Those tend to knock me out pretty well, so I’m crossing my fingers it works tonight,” Initially she wasn’t sure what to do - Nate wasn’t staring directly at her, but the idea of sleeping with someone else in her room just… wasn’t one she had given much thought to, before. After another moment, she opened her nightstand drawer and pulled out a hair scrunchie with a small bell attached to it. “It won’t wake me up, but, just in case you doze off,” She explained, wrapping it around her ankle. “Okay… Well, goodnight. To me, y’know,”

Nate smiled, cracking open one of his cans and settling in with a book. “Sweet dreams!” It was weird to be sure, but he was trying not to be too intrusive, all things considered. He was pretty well versed in all nighters, they just didn’t tend to come with a sleeping ward that he barely knew. He sighed, settling himself in for the night. Hopefully it wouldn’t be very eventful. A few hours passed quietly, Margot’s breathing slowed and Nate hoped the rest of the night would pass like this. He wasn’t entirely sure what good he might do if she did sleepwalk, how he’d be able to stop her if something went wrong, but he knew he would do whatever he could. He was just coming to the final chapter of his first book when a light tinkling of a bell caught his attention. “Margot?” He whispered, figuring she was probably just tossing in her sleep. Nothing to worry about, right?

It took Margot longer than she would have liked to fall asleep. The moment she closed her eyes, that damned eye showed up again. It was the sole occupant of the darkness behind her lids, an intruder that she could never seem to shake. Even when closing her eyes for too long it would appear, staring back at her. It didn’t appear to be anything other than an eyeball, but that in itself felt vaguely threatening. Why was it there? What did it want? Was it even capable of having wants or needs? Her eyes flickered open and shut multiple times until the allergy pill finally began taking affect, lulling her into a drowsy state before finally falling under the blanket of slumber. The eye was still there, but it couldn’t stop her from doing what her body desperately pleaded for. And so hours passed, the world felt still and silent. Yet while Margot’s conscious mind had gone to rest, her body still moved of its own accord. She dragged herself into a sitting position, poised at the side of the bed as her feet settled onto the carpet, eventually pushing herself up to stand. Her body swayed a bit, then she took a step forward, and another, slowly making her way towards the window.

Nate had turned his attention back to his book when the rustling from the bed became more active. Instead of seeing Margot in the throes of a bad dream, he saw her sit, then stand, then move towards the window. He threw his can of Monster to the side and leapt into action, gently reaching for her arm. He’d heard that you weren’t supposed to wake sleepwalkers, just get them back to bed, and he wanted to disrupt her as little as possible. “Margot,” he whispered, his hands gently trying to steer her away from the second story window and back to the safety of her own bed. “Let’s just get back to bed, ok?” Thank god he was here!

Margot didn’t make a move to remove her arm from the other’s grasp, initially allowing herself to be guided back in the direction of her bed. But her subconscious guided body had other plans. Suddenly, she began lowering herself onto the floor on all fours, whimpering slightly as her frame trembled. The sound of bones shifting echoed around the room as her back arched, the transformation beginning to take place. It wasn’t a pretty sight - jaw elongating, teeth inching out into dagger-like sharpness, body rising and darkening with a generous layer of fur, expanding… until after a few minutes, the slim blonde had become a 500lb bear. A bugbear, specifically. She grunted, large, black eyes still shut before sniffing the air and turning to Nate’s general direction and starting forward.

Nate dropped Margot’s arm as it began to crunch and shift into something very inhuman. He stumbled backward into a dresser, his eyes wide as saucers. “M-Margot?” He remembered Morgan saying something about werewolves and vampires and stuff existing, but what about werebears?? His eyes locked on the bear’s face, trying to read any semblance of humanity, and sign that Margot was in there, that maybe she was still in control of this thing. But if she was, would she have needed Nate’s help to begin with? “J-just– don’t come any closer! I’m just- just trying to help! R-remember? It’s me! N-Nate!” Trying to keep his voice calm and soothing, Nate began to side step, wondering if he would be able to run down the stairs quicker than the bear. But what about her father? Wasn’t he in the house? What if she tried to hurt him too? Goodness gracious, what did he get himself into now??

Margot slipped further into a state of unconsciousness now in her other form, grunted softly at the sound of Nate’s voice, head turned in his direction. Every word he said went in one ear and out the other, barely registering aside from the fact that someone was actually talking to her. To her knowledge, she had never carried out the act of sleepwalking as a bugbear. But that revelation mattered little when she couldn’t even realize it. Instead, she made a soft, chuffing sort of noise, approaching Nate and bumping her snout against his leg. Realizing it as solid, she mouthed at the material of his pants before biting down, teeth barely scraping against his skin, and began to tug him. If he stayed upright and followed or needed to be dragged, she didn’t really care. Either way, she thudded down the hall, eventually leading them into the bathroom.

Nate raised his hands in a gesture of peace, slowly attempting to back away from the monster that stood where Margot had been just a few moments ago. But his slow, careful movements didn’t matter as a bear snout clamped down on his leg, pulling his weight out from under him. “Margot!” He yelped, hoping against hope that her consciousness was still in there somewhere. He clawed and scratched at the walls, the edge of her dresser, the panel of the bedroom door, but he was no match for the bear’s strength. If he fought any harder, she would surely tear his leg right off! In a matter of moments, the hulking, furry mass had dragged him down the hall and into the bathroom. At least she wasn’t trying to take him to the ocean, but no matter where Margot was taking him, Nate didn’t have the slightest idea how to get them both out of this. Tears began springing up behind his eyes as terror attacked his mind. “M-Margot! It’s me! Nate! I’m- please don’t hurt me!”

...to be continued in dash para...