#mental health for truck drivers

[artisticdivasworld]

Staying Healthy as a Long-Haul Truck Driver: Straight Talk

Hitting the open road as a long-haul truck driver isn’t just a job; it’s a lifestyle. And let’s be real, it’s one that comes with its fair share of health challenges. With the long hours and endless miles, staying healthy might seem like a battle. But with a bit of know-how and discipline, you can keep yourself in top shape. We talked about this before here, but feel it bears repeating because…

[negative0nex]

Well, got food poisoning that been a ride so I got time to vent. Anywho it’s been roughly a week of having cymbalta in my system. These side effects sucks but they are slowly going away little by little. But I have to wait a whole month or so to see full effects. But either way the fact that my pain from fibromyalgia is more or less gone or at least manageable is such a huge sigh of relief. I honestly hopes it stays like this for the time being. Also seeing the world in a new light is also exciting, everything is so enjoyable. Not being depressed, having extreme anxiety is so relieving as well. Either way I should have backup plans just in case it gets worse. Because my current profession is a truck driver. Sure I love what I do but the rules and lifestyle is so straining on the body it’s only a ticking time bomb how much time do I honestly have. Even im not sure but I have to keep moving forward.

[latenightdaydreams]

Trucker!König x Stranded!Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Part 2 🚚, Part 3, Part4, Part5

🚫MASSIVE TRIGGERS FOR DARK THEMES!!!🚫 If this is disturbing for you please turn back now. Your mental health is important and I hope you have an amazing day even if you keep scrolling! ily all! I hope you are all well and please take care of yourselves! You matter 💗

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Master List

>cw: fem/afab, oral, cum play, non-con somnophilia, non-con, sleeping pills, kidnapping, non-con recording

2.3k word count

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“Fuck!” You shout slamming the hood of your car down. On your way through the countryside on a road trip, your car decided to break down. You’re in a foreign country, the sun is setting, and having no one to help leaves you feeling overwhelmed and defeated. You sit back in your car and begin to cry. In your mind driving solo across Europe was going to be a piece of cake, yet here you are because you tried to save money and got a piece of shit car.

The sound of a semi-truck braking gets your attention as you look into your rear-view mirror to see a blue truck had pulled off and stopped behind you. In a hurry you pull down your visor to check yourself as you wipe tears away and try to relax your face. You close it just in time to see a massive man jump out of the cab of the semi and walk in your direction. A wave of fear rushed over you as you realized you have no items for self-defense on you.

 A knock on the driver’s side window, and the tall trucker steps back and stares at you with piercing blue eyes. Taking a deep breath, you open the car door and step out. His eyes look you up and down.

“Are you stranded?” His voice is smooth with a thick Austrian accent.

“Yes, I am.” Your voice cracks from the nervousness you’re feeling. He is built like a tank and like, really fucking tall.

He gives you a small nod before extending his hand to you, “I’m König.”

“Y/n,” you grab his hand and shake it. His hand is massive and swallows yours.

“You’re not from here, are you?” He gives you a warm smile trying to be nice.

“I’m not…”

“Do you have anyone here you can call?” The question seems innocent enough.

“No, I don’t. My phone has no signal either.”

“Hm,” König looks at your car and then to you once more. “Well, I can’t possibly leave you here alone, especially with it getting dark... where were you heading?”

“I was heading to the German border.”

“Hm, that’s a six-hour drive Maus.”

“It’s okay if you can’t-”

“I can, I’m heading that way. I’ll drive you as close as I can get and help you get set up with a ride in.” He gives you such a genuinely warm smile that you feel your guard beginning to drop.

“I- I really appreciate that, König.” You turn to go to your car and open the back seat to grab two small suitcases out.

“I’ll grab those for you Fräulein.” König walks behind you and gently reaches past you to grab your bags. The sweet vanilla body lotion you’re wearing catches his attention and he tries to take a deep breath as discreetly as he possibly can.

You back away, slightly bumping him. “Oh, sorry. Thank you so much König. You’re like a God send.”

He smiles back at you while holding your bags and closing the car door, “Is this all there is?”

“Yes, that’s it.” You two begin to walk towards the semi-truck as you look around the farm land.

Once to the truck König opens the door for you and helps you climb into the cab, his hand grazing your butt seemed innocent enough so you brush it off. It was most definitely not innocent. He is simply testing your boundaries and seeing how you’d react.

You set you bag down on the floor as König walked around to the driver’s side. He walks to the back of the cab and puts your bags on his small bed back there. He finally sits in the driver seat and looks over at you.

“Are you ready to go?” He asks in a gentle voice.

“Yeah,” you look out at the car that broke down on you feeling slightly sad.

“Don’t worry about that car,” König says, noticing your sad gaze. “I will help you out, I promise. I can’t leave a young woman stranded.” His smile is so warm and genuine, but the look in his eyes shows he has different motives with you.

As he pulled back onto the road König found himself checking you out. His eyes are drawn to the curve of your breast in your tight shirt and the way your thighs look as you sit down in the seat. He was going to have fun with you.

“So, where are you originally from?” He asks, keeping his eyes straight ahead.

You answer and explain how you have always wanted to visit Europe so on impulse you decided to come.

“A bit far from home aren’t you Maus?” He asks with a sly smile on his lips. “Do you even have any friends or contacts in any of these countries?”

“No, I don’t.” You shake your head not realizing these are questions you shouldn’t be answering truthfully.

“That’s a shame, you could get hurt out here. Good thing I came across you and not some… pervert.” He turns his gaze from the road to you and looks at how your breasts bounce with every bump he hits. He couldn’t wait to see what they actually look like, but in his head, he is running through every possibility.

“Yeah…thank you so much for all of your help. Really. I was about to give up and go back home.” You giggle softly.

Your giggle was so genuine and soft. Your lips look tender and kissable. He wanted to see how your lips look wrapped around his cock or sucking on his full nut sack.

“That would have been a shame, it’s good to explore. See the world and expand your horizon.” He says it so casually as if he isn’t thinking of shoving your head down on his dick and making you give him road head. I wonder if she does anal…

You both drive while having small talk. Innocent topics like your hobbies, home life, any little question he can drop to get more information out of you. The sun was now completely set and König noticed your eyes becoming tired as the drive went on.

“If you need to rest, there’s a small bed in the back. It’s not much, but if I can sleep on it, you’ll do just fine.” There’s a friendly chuckle in his tone as his eyes look over at you. Watching as you turn in the seat and look into the dark tiny cab with the bed. His eyes trailing up and down your legs before going back up to your eyes.

“Oh,” you couldn’t explain this feeling in your gut. It was as if it were screaming at you, telling you no and that you should stay awake. You really shouldn’t even be in this truck. Shoving those feelings to the side and excusing them as anxiety, you look back at König.

“Don’t worry, y/n, I don’t bite.” König says with a big smile revealing his sharp K9s. “You’ll be safe with me.”

You nod your head as you begin to stand and walk to the back, it was dark so you used your hands to guide you back there. It was simple since it’s a small space. Taking your bags off the bed and setting them on the floor, you lay down and rest your head on the pillow. Grabbing the thin blue blanket on the bed to cover yourself, you feel so happy to be in a bed, even if its this tiny.

König turns his head slightly to look back at you. It has been ten minutes so he wanted to know if you were asleep or not. 

“You settled in alright back there?” He waits to see if he hears your voice.

“No…” Your voice meek as if you feel bad you can’t fall asleep.

“Would you like a sleeping pill Maus?” Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes… “My doctor gave them to me to help with the uncomfortable sleeping situation.” He chuckles softly. That was a bold face lie, he got them from his handy dandy street dealer for a moment like this.

You know it isn’t smart to take medication from others, especially prescribed and from a stranger. You hesitate for a moment trying to think of your answer.

“Here,” he opens up a small pill organizer with one hand and holds them out for you to grab. His eyes are straight ahead still on the road.

You slowly get up and grab one, “Thank you.”

“You can take a sip of my water. I promise I have no gross germs.” He laughs, his laughs so warm and welcoming.

You take the sleeping pill and thank him again. Returning to the tiny bed in the back of the cab you try to get as comfortable as you can. You keep your eyes open for a while, looking at the little bits of König and the road you can see from the angle. By the time I wake up we should be close to the German border, and I’ll be able to continue on my way. This is just for a few hours…just…a few…more…

Twenty minutes pass as König continues to drive. There is a truck stop coming up where he can refill and where he’d usually rest. He looks over his shoulder at you again, “You still awake?” He asks rather loudly.

No response.

“Are you asleep?” He asks again at the same loudness, no response. “Perfect.”

König pulls into the truck stop as usual. He pulls up to the gas station and gets out of the semi to refill the tank and make sure all his wheels are in good condition. He buys you a drink and something to eat when you wake up from the concession area inside before you pay. He grabbed himself another water and a snack as well. Casually he got back to the truck and drove it around back to the parking lot where truckers can park and sleep for the night. He took his time setting up the window covers and making sure the doors were locked and safe. Standing in the now total darkness of the cab, he looks in your direction.

“Hey,” he said, lightly shaking your leg to see if you would wake up. You didn’t. Good.

He pulls his cell phone out of his pocket and pulls the blanket off of you. His hand caresses the curve of your waist, hip, and ass slowly taking his time to enjoy the way the curves feel. His hand wrapping around your ass and squeezing.

He turns on the light from his phone and illuminates the small cabin. He crouches down beside you and gently pushes your body back so you’re lying on your back now. His hand gently runs under your shirt and caresses the soft skin of your abdomen. His hand reaching up and cupping your breast over your bra. He lets out a soft sigh as he withdraws his hand.

“You’re so beautiful Maus, so beautiful…” He says as he slowly begins to pull your pants down. He opens the photo app on his phone and begins to take photos of your exposed body, only your panties and bra to cover you.

As he continues to shine a light on you, he pulls your bra down and records himself gently shaking your breast and caressing your nipples until they harden. He leans in and begins to suck on each nipple, making sure it’s all on camera. With his free hand he rubs the erection that is growing in his pants.

Pausing the recording he stands and undoes his belt buckle and then his pants, pulling them down to around his ankles. He releases his aching cock, a bead of precum dripping from the pinkish red tip. He picks back up the phone and points the camera back at you as he jerks off over your body.

His loud pants being picked up on the camera as he stops occasionally to rub your pussy through the fabric of your underwear, feeling a wet spot begin to form, or play with your breast before continuing to pump his fist on his cock.

You remain asleep, completely unaware of what was going on as König kneeled into the bed a little and scooped your drool up with the head of his cock, gently rubbing his tip over your soft lips. He spread your drool around the tip of his cock and used it as a lube for himself. He slapped your lips with his cock twice before gently trying to push it inside of your mouth. He moved his hand from around his cock to your jaw to hold it open as he slid himself in. His breathing shakes as he feels the wet heat of your mouth.

He slowly bucks his hips forward into you as he inches his cock in your mouth little by little. “Ja, that’s my good little Hure.” He moans out, his free hand traveling to your breast and squeezing your breast.

“Oh fuck,” König quickly moves his hand back to his cock as he begins to cum. He pulls out slightly so he can cum on your lips and in your mouth. His breathing heavy and he moans your name. Releasing his full balls completely on to you he smiles at his artwork. He slaps his cock on your lips a few more times before scooping it up with his cock and shoveling it into your mouth, making you eat all of his cum.

König stops recording once he is done and puts the phone down on the bed and he picks his pants back up. He would usually have his fun and drop the girl off somewhere safe, but you… you’re so beautiful. Your tits are perfection and he didn’t even get to try that pussy yet. You’re the type of woman that would never even give him the time of day outside of these circumstances. He’s keeping you. You’re his now.

Part2, Part3, Part4, Part5

[jsanand25]

J & S Anand Inc is hiring experienced truck drivers for FedEx truck driving jobs. If you have a valid CDL license and a clean driving record, then apply for a job through our website at https://jsanandinc.com/jobs/ and get ready to give a boost to your trucking career.

[ryuzakemo128]

Made of Stone

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female Reader x Steve Harrington

Content Warnings: Mental health issues mentioned. Car crash, car accident.

Words: 1853

Masterlist

Dividers Credit: @cafekitsune + @strangergraphics

Summary:

I'm carrying my heart, but it's made of stone.

I'm carrying my heart, but my heart is made of stone

You know you shouldn’t be here, yet here you were, at the backstage of a recital, and you were about to play in an orchestra. Your parents made an excuse of why they couldn’t be bothered to show up. You didn’t tell any of your friends about it either, why would you? It’s not like they cared for classical music as far as you were concerned. Eddie’s face said more than enough whenever it was mentioned.

It was never mentioned as to why you were practising, only that you had to do it for an hour after school, and you never told anyone either. Mostly because you didn’t want to bother them with it. Until the day he figured out why you were practising so much.

“You didn’t have an interest for it. So, I didn’t say anything.” You said one afternoon. “You don’t like classical music.”

It was like you said something hurtful, but you hadn’t tried to say anything of a sort. As you were looking through your sheet music for a piece to practice on your cello, Eddie seemed to gather his courage to say, “I… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be insensitive.”

“Eh. At this point, I'm used to it.” You said as you were about to warm up a little though, he seemed to have the intention of letting it go. Especially considering your parents weren't going to be there either. Thus, you would be there alone and heading home in your light blue vintage truck that your grandfather left you in his will.

You started playing the cello when you were five, you weren’t game enough to find something you liked, so you kept a straight face and played along. Your parents, who were too busy with their work to notice, were happy to see you playing. They thought it was a good hobby for you. But as you grew older, you realised that you didn’t really enjoy it.

As you packed up that night after the recital, packing your cello away and stepping into your truck. Though the fact that it was so high off the ground made it a challenge to get into.

I'm carrying my heart, but it's made of stone.

I'm carrying my heart, but my heart is made of stone.

You swung yourself up into the driver’s seat, your cello case bumping against your leg. A sigh escaped your lips as you adjusted the rearview mirror. You were alone, the quiet of the night broken only by the soft hum of the engine.

As you drove, your mind wandered back to the recital. The music had been beautiful, the orchestra had played in perfect harmony. But it wasn't the music that had truly touched you. It was the feeling of being part of something bigger, of being connected to others through the shared love of music.

Suddenly a pair of headlights appeared in your back rearview mirror, you frowned, thinking it was too late for someone to be all the way out here and awfully suspicious. You pulled over, thinking they needed to get by you, yet they still didn’t seem to ease up or move past you. In fact, they rear ended your truck, on purpose perhaps?

The impact sent a jolt through your body, you slammed your foot on the accelerator to get out of there. The truck lurched a few meters, crashing into a tree, causing the truck to flip a few times before coming to rest on its side.

‘This is how I die.’ You thought, staring into the night sky. ‘In the middle of the night, in the middle of nowhere and inside a vintage truck.’

You squeezed through the other side, 'Guess I should start walking.'

You were walking along the road and talking into the void with your walkie-talkie. "I don't know if anyone is listening. But I got into an accident." you said into your walkie-talkie. "I might be late coming home."

An answer came through the walkie-talkie, "Are you okay? Where are you?" It was Eddie's voice.

"Is that you, Eddie?" You asked. "I'm near the road I take to head home. But I don't know where exactly. I think it's near the forest."

"I'm on my way," Eddie's voice crackled through the speaker. "Stay put and keep talking to me."

"Not much to talk about. A stranger rear ended my truck, the recital went by smoothly." you continued to speak.

Eddie chuckled at your attempt to lighten the mood, his voice tinged with relief, "Yeah, I heard about your 'smooth' recital. You were the talk of the school, you know?"

"You mean my dead eyed stare I usually have?" You snorted. "It usually leaves people spooked, after all."

Eddie's chuckle grew into a full laugh, "Maybe, but it's more like your passion came to life tonight. It was beautiful to see."

"I don't recommend getting rear ended, this headache, right now, is the worst." You complained, gently rubbing your forehead with your free hand. A concussion by the sound of things. Eddie heard you throw up a few times before the line went quiet.

"Just keep talking to me," He urged, his own heart racing, "I'm getting closer. Can you see any landmarks?"

"Other than the numerous trees? Not really." You managed to joke, trying to ignore the pain in your ribs. "The sign which says, 'Welcome to Hawkins' isn't too far, though."

Eddie's van broke through the treeline, the headlights bouncing off the trees before finally landing on your crumpled truck. You squinted, shielding your eyes from the glare as he rushed over to you. Concern etched on his face, he helped you to your feet, brushing off the dirt and leaves that clung to your dress. "Thank God you're okay," he breathed, his eyes scanning over you, checking for injuries.

Your hug took him off guard, but he wrapped his arms around you tightly, the warmth of his embrace seeping into your bones. You were terrified, but he was here now, and that was all that mattered. He said, "You're shaking like a leaf. Let's get you checked out." He guided you to his van, the side door already open, and helped you inside. The familiar scent of his leather jacket and the faint smell of pine-scented air freshener filled the space, offering a comforting sense of normalcy amidst the chaos.

The van was cluttered with guitar cases, amp cords, and fast-food wrappers, but it was a welcome mess compared to the eerie quiet of the woods outside. Steve's face appeared at the window, his jaw tight with worry. He'd been following you from a safe distance, making sure you weren't being followed. When he saw the state of your truck, he sprinted over, and the relief in his eyes when he saw you moving was palpable. “What happened?” he asked, his voice gruff but gentle.

“A car rear ended me, I don't know where they came from. I saw their headlights in my rearview mirror, and they rear ended me. I stepped on my accelerator, crashed into a tree and the truck flipped a few times and ended up here,” You replied, your voice shaking.

Steve wrapped you in a blanket, as if trying to shield you from the cold reality of the situation. His eyes searched yours, looking for any signs of shock or injury that you might be hiding. "We need to get you to the hospital," he said firmly, his hand on your shoulder, grounding you. Though your grip on his hand remained tight. As if you were afraid, he'd disappear into a puff of smoke like the car that had hit you.

As soon as you got into the hospital, the world around you became a whirlwind of nurses and doctors. The bright lights and sterile smells made you feel more nauseous than the actual crash. Steve and Eddie didn't leave your side, each holding one of your hands tightly, offering silent support while they checked your vitals and asked a barrage of questions. You felt like a rag doll being passed around, but their grips were reassuring.

When the doctor finally announced that you had nothing but a mild concussion and some bruised ribs, a collective sigh of relief filled the room. They both looked at you with a mix of relief and concern, their eyes speaking volumes about how scared they had been. “You're going to be okay,” Steve said, his voice thick with emotion. “But you need to rest.”

“A nap doesn’t sound too bad right now.” You yawned like a cat stretching after a long nap. The adrenaline had drained from your body, leaving you feeling exhausted. Your parents were away on a business trip, meaning you had the entire house to yourself.

Eddie and Steve exchanged a knowing look, “We'll take you home,” Steve offered, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. You nodded, too tired to argue. The drive was quiet, the only sound being the gentle hum of the van's engine and the occasional crackle of the radio static. The darkness outside was a stark contrast to the bright lights of the hospital, and you found yourself dozing off, lulled by the steady rhythm of the road.

When you woke up, you were in your own bed, the familiar scent of home surrounding you. Steve was gently tucking in the surrounding blankets, his eyes filled with concern. “I'll grab you some water and some painkillers,” he said, placing a kiss on your forehead before disappearing into the hallway. Eddie sat in the chair beside your bed, his eyes never leaving yours. “You scared the hell out of us,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I know you didn't do it on purpose, but maybe it's time to tell someone about your nighttime escapades?”

You snorted, “I’ll be sure to warn you when I’m heading home next time.”

You snorted, “I’ll be sure to warn you when I’m heading home next time.” You lived just outside of Hawkins, which meant you had to drive awhile to head to school and back home again.

Eddie cuddled with you, afraid that you were going to vanish if he didn't keep you in his line of sight. His thumb rubbed comforting circles on the back of your hand, trying to ease the tension that was visible in every line of your body. Once Steve walked back in with a glass of water and a couple of pills, he handed them to you, his eyes never leaving yours. You took them with a grateful nod, wincing slightly as you swallowed the medicine.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice hoarse from the adrenaline of the night. "Both of you."

Steve handed you the water, his eyes searching yours for any lingering fear. "You're not going anywhere without telling us, okay?" His tone was firm, but the worry in his eyes told a different story.

You were fine with that. More than a little fine with that. The last thing you wanted to do was to move around too much. Especially now.

[queersatanic]

Carl Grant, a Vietnam veteran with dementia, wandered out of a hospital room to charge a cellphone he imagined he had. When he wouldn’t sit still, the police officer escorting Grant body-slammed him, ricocheting the patient’s head off the floor. Taylor Ware, a former Marine and aspiring college student, walked the grassy grounds of an interstate rest stop trying to shake the voices in his head. After Ware ran from an officer, he was attacked by a police dog, jolted by a stun gun, pinned on the ground and injected with a sedative. And Donald Ivy Jr., a former three-sport athlete, left an ATM alone one night when officers sized him up as suspicious and tried to detain him. Ivy took off, and police tackled and shocked him with a stun gun, belted him with batons and held him facedown. Each man was unarmed. Each was not a threat to public safety. And despite that, each died after police used a kind of force that is not supposed to be deadly — and can be much easier to hide than the blast of an officer’s gun.

...

Over a decade, more than 1,000 people died after police subdued them through means not intended to be lethal, an investigation led by The Associated Press found.... These sorts of deadly encounters happened just about everywhere, according to an analysis of a database AP created. Big cities, suburbs and rural America. Red states and blue states. Restaurants, assisted-living centers and, most commonly, in or near the homes of those who died. The deceased came from all walks of life — a poet, a nurse, a saxophone player in a mariachi band, a truck driver, a sales director, a rodeo clown and even a few off-duty law enforcement officers. The toll, however, disproportionately fell on Black Americans like Grant and Ivy. Black people made up a third of those who died despite representing only 12% of the U.S. population. Others feeling the brunt were impaired by a medical, mental health or drug emergency, a group particularly susceptible to force even when lightly applied.

...

Reporters filed nearly 7,000 requests for government documents and body-camera footage, receiving more than 700 autopsy reports or death certificates, and uncovering video in at least four dozen cases that has never been published or widely distributed. Medical officials cited law enforcement as causing or contributing to about half of the deaths. In many others, significant police force went unmentioned and drugs or preexisting health conditions were blamed instead. Video in a few dozen cases showed some officers mocked people as they died, laughing or making comments such as “sweaty little hog,” “screaming like a little girl” and “lazy f---.” In other cases, officers expressed clear concern for the people they were subduing.

[cator99]

I love making phone calls I love sending emails and being overall pleasant to interact with I love looking for solutions and being eager to understand how the world around me operates and to ask people about the role they play in this beautiful world I love being able to tell that other people are excited for any reason at all to strut their shit in this way and I always take notes on how they do it. It's all so funny to me. I am doing this because I am an insane person. I am the best person for the job. I am like the inverse of Jude St Francis. Born in a wet cardboard box doomed fucked in the head and forced to make an accommodation with life BUT I think its cunty and will commit awesomely violent ritual seppuku when my life is at its absolute peak. But yeah I dont get anxiety anymore if I dont like something it I can just thank them for their time and then find a way to leave and literally do anything else no one really cares as long as you do it right and you know like you can just keep looking for better things you literally never know you might turn out to be really passionate about fish mongering and didnt even consider it and it's not always easy but if the alternative is unbearable then fuck it pack a bag and stick your thumb out on the highway and spend 2 hours chatting about life with a fat 60 year old semi truck driver with photos of his happy fatty family plastered over the entirety of his dashboard and who was concerned why some kid was wandering the highway without a jacket and is nothing but totally kind and appropriate towards you which you kind of didnt expect when you hit the road but then you get to the city and go to an orgy party at some xi/xirs apartment who you met while on a psychiatrist-approved leave to attend an LGBT youth summer camp during the tail end of your 4 month stay at a youth mental health/detention facility but you can't stay there because his 40 year old housemate just announced that he's moving to the states and suddenly wouldnt be contributing to next months rent and didn't want to say anything until the night before when his boxes were being actively moved out of the apartment in order to avoid any sort of confrontation and the resulting altercation is heart breaking this 40 year old workig professional gay dude just absolutely betrayed this screwed up teenaged lesbian with no hesitation but maybe the drug fuelled sex parties had something to do with it but im just there stoned watching some tv show about anthropomorphic fast food and xe really did care about me but this was not the time to be pulling some cutesy whimsical runaway shit so we said our goodbyes and xe gave me directions the youth emergency shelter. As far as I was concerned, I was living the dream. This was just the "hard" part. I broke the high score on the ancient tetris machine at the day-shelter and barely ate anything because they relied entirely on donations and for whatever reason nobody thought to donate anything gluten free. I slept in the girls quarters of the cold shelter we were taken to every night, driven in huge vans by the staff at the day shelter. The girls were primarily quiet and didnt want to talk or even look at anyone. Some of the native girls were chill to play board games or watch tv with though. The guys were real rough. Mostly drug addicts. Mostly violent. They were known for treating each other terribly. I was told I could "use whatever rooms or washrooms that align with your gender identity". I told them I'd rather use the room that made me less likely to have me end up raped or my pillow pissed on.

[littlemisscuddles]

I am his

The conclusion to a very long and difficult talk. The bedrock of what has the potential to make or break our relationship.

I have been aware of my submissiveness for many years, but he has only dabbled in the lifestyle for as long as we’ve been together. His confidence in himself as a dom waxes and wanes. My subby self goes into hiding for months at a time as our dynamic comes to a halt, but inevitably bursts forth kicking and screaming. Will she always have to hide?

“Are you ready to have a difficult conversation?”

“….yes” 🥺

“What if I can never be the dom you want?”

The words hit me like a truck. The reality of my submissive side, what sometimes feels like the truest part of myself, having to exist only in my mind is unthinkable. To not be able to share it with my person is even more so.

His engagement in this lifestyle which constantly tests his confidence and resolve becomes lost in the noise of life’s complications. Work. Family. Mental health. It all becomes too much to bear and I could never blame him for it. I am his no matter what.

Yet… there is a spark there that can’t be ignored. I am his and not in the traditional way. I belong to him. He possesses me and he likes it that way. Sure, life has its ups and downs, but that one fact will never change even when our dynamic does. We don’t need to give up on d/s, we need to evolve. Find ourselves again. Be willing to approach things differently. Carve out a path.

Too often we have tried to mimic what I see working in other dynamics on Tumblr. This time we are boiling it down to the basics and truly making it our own, with him in the drivers seat.

[slushiepizza]

I just read your 'The Pursuit of Catharsis' and I'M NOT OK BUT IN A GOOD WAY!!!

And because I'm a sucker for angst... I wanna twist the knife in Guy's heart a bit more ❤️

Imagine if Guy - with his name now in the spotlight, his career at its peak and yet he's so miserable to the point of suicidal because of the cheating, of the scandal and the divorce - saw Honey on a random street on night.

Looking just as perfect as the day he lost them.

Looking like they're untouched by time.

Because after losing Guy and working themselves up to be the best version of themselves, to have the healthiest mental and emotional health in their lives, Honey becomes someone else's...

Treasure.

YES, IT'S EXACTLY WHO YOU THINK HE IS!

ANYWAY, THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME! GOOD BYE!

link to the fic

Thanks for reading and enjoying the fic!!! I'm using this opportunity to discuss the Divorced!AU lmao

warning : discussions of suicidal behavior, mental health issues, substance abuse

i. honey being treasure

ough..... that's a really sad idea but now I'm more focused on something specific in this scenario. If Honey later became Treasure, there's the implication that they weren't doing as well as they hoped they were because as mentioned by Porter, 'your friends suck'. And they now have a semi-toxic circle of friends.

I like that, I think. That no matter how hard they try and how far they've come since the divorce- there's always the ghost of it that they couldn't get rid of and managed to sneak away into their life.

ii. Guy's misery and cheating

Hm, about Guy being miserable to the point of suicidal...I do think that he was already like that before he cheated and when he and Honey were still married but had problems. That was sort of my take on his reasoning behind why he cheated actually.

He was just someone who couldn't cope with fame while at the same time craving it severely. He spent all of his time working and tried to remedy his lack of effort into maintaining his relationship with Honey with lavish gifts. He struggled with substance abuse- mainly alcohol but sometimes others- because he refused to realize that he had nothing else to live for now that he's at the top.

When he and Honey's fights got really bad, he'd go on a bender. He'd go for one night stands mostly, and they all have traits that are reminiscent of Honey's. They weren't on speaking terms when he missed their anniversary for the sake of going abroad. And Guy has this feeling that whatever they're dealing with- they won't be able to come back from this. He'd imagine the people and sex workers he'd spend the night with was Honey he was laying with, as and under the blur and haze of the stupor he was in, they might as well be. When people found out about him cheating, the world moves on. He's a Hollywood writer, of course it wouldn't be something people blink an eye at. His career wouldn't take a hit at all.

iii. honey's aftermath

After they got divorced, Honey would move away from Dahlia and live in a small town where they can escape Guy's name and fame. They'd heal but they severely missed someone who used to be their best friend.

Life in the small town was idyllic and had the community they needed to heal. Honey started work as a cargo truck driver, finding comfort in long winding roads in between states. They don't quite care about the cities or fame or success anymore- it's sullied by how things used to be and how Guy turned out.

At a local bookstore new, freshly packaged books was displayed front and center- and it had Guy's name on it. It stated that it was a bestseller and that it's from "American Horror Sensation, Guy". They shrug and tried to feel glad that he got what he wanted. Oh well. The two of them were different people now from the college kids that shared a home, unrecognizable from who they used to be.

They remembered what they used to tell him when he had writer's block and needed the extra push: "Dude! You're good at this. If you ever get published, I'd definitely everything you write."

"Really, everything?"

"Everything. I really do like the way you write."

They buy the copy anyway, unfortunately.

[questionableratatouille00]

ʜɪɢʜᴡᴀʏ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇʟʟ ᴄʜ. 5

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: In an effort to get the two of you to bond, Tony Stark sends you and the ex-assassin Bucky Barnes on a road trip together. The problem? You hate each other. The situation? Two weeks in a car together. The reward: three days of a resort vacation. And the problem? He's kinda cute.

Warnings (Entire Series): Enemies-to-lovers, cursing, sexual tension, angst, fluff, crying, fighting, violence, chaos, mentions/talk of trauma, discussions of mental health, and potentially more.

Warnings: Enemies-to-lovers, cursing, sexual tension, talks of nightmares, eating and food, mentions of Bucky not doing so well, mentions of Bucky's trauma in general, and Bucky is probably written wrong. (Trying my best lmao)

A/n: Hi! So sorry that this came out later than expected, life is kinda kicking my ass right now. This chapter’s shorter than usual, but I wanted to at least put something out. I hope you enjoy!

||Part 4|| Part 5 || Part 6 (Coming soon!)

[Series Masterlist]

---------------------------------------------

𝑴𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒚 𝑳𝒂𝒏𝒆

🄳🄰🅈 3

You slept in the next morning, and Bucky didn't have the heart to wake you. Well, he did, but he felt bad for last night. He knew you were right. God, he knew. He regretted it. It was a stupid argument to even get into in the first place.

The two of you had a habit of getting into stupid arguments. Over little things, like you sitting in the chair he always sat in at the dinner table, or him eating the snack you were waiting to eat. Sometimes it was over bigger things, like who fucked up the mission, or who's fault something was.

He couldn't even remember half of them. He just remembered that he'd had them with you, and that you pissed him off. A lot. But even just for three short minutes last night, he thought otherwise.

"Who gives a shit?" Your voice echoed through his brain, and it felt like every other thought he could hear you again. As he got ready for the day, he heard it over and over again.

When you woke up, he waited patiently for you to pack up your things and get ready. Once you did, he took down both of the room keys as you loaded the truck. He let you drive this time, thinking that it was only fair.

“Remember when you first came to the tower?" You asked, eyes never leaving the road.

Bucky did remember. He remembered it clearly. He remembered Steve's reassurance every five seconds, he remembered the fear. He remembered staying holed up in his standard Compound bedroom. Nothing unique or special, no extra decorations. Cold and unwelcoming. He'd slept on the floor. He deserved it, he knew. The bed made him feel like he was sinking, anyway. Beds always made him feel like that. Even now.

He gave a simple nod as you continued.

"How long had it been? Since..HYDRA?"

"Two years." He'd been getting better, during those years. Kind of. He learned to make decisions again. He figured out an easy way to live. He didn't have very many memories back then. Newer, more recent HYDRA stuff. But then the whole Zemo thing happened, and it had basically reset the entire process. And then the memories hit. He knew for a fact that he didn't have them all, and he wasn't exactly sure if he wanted them.

You nodded in the driver's seat.

The car drive felt long. There wasn't much talking, which meant Bucky was left alone with his thoughts.

He remembered what it felt like, after Zemo had triggered the Winter Soldier. His mind was so used to operating knowing that those times had passed that once he was back, when he was Bucky again, his brain seemed stuck in that mindset.

Steve hated it when he said it that way. "You were always Bucky. You've always been Bucky. You're not a machine, Buck," he'd say.

He'd isolated himself from the team, terrified both of them and for them. He couldn't prove to himself that he wasn't some kind of monster, he couldn't prove that he wasn't a danger to the team.

Steve had treated him like he was made of glass, always being cautious and quiet and polite. Steve had introduced him to the others, who either quietly avoided him or pretended like he didn't exist past a simple 'hello'. Bucky didn't mind.

But you weren't like that. You treated him like he was just another guy, arguing and bickering with him. Sometimes he'd leave annoyed, other times he was glad that you didn't treat him like a glass vase.

Bucky didn’t mind that either.

---------------

You said nothing as you checked into two motel rooms. You couldn't get conjoined ones, so Bucky was just across the hall. The drive had been quiet. It was different, but a somewhat good kind of different. You hadn't argued, or bickered. You listened to your favorite playlist, and Bucky sat quietly.

Sleep came easily that night. You wondered if it was the same for Bucky.

---------------

🄳🄰🅈 4

It was not the same for Bucky. He'd been up half of the night trying to fall asleep. He hated nights like these. He had them quite often. Sure, they were annoying as hell, but he'd take them over a nightmare any day.

It was day four of the trip. That meant thirteen days left, and then the two of you didn't have to share a truck ever again.

“Let’s play a game. Or something.” You suggested. You were driving again, because you’d made it to the left side of the truck first.

“Like what?” Bucky questioned.

“Ever played twenty questions?”

Bucky shook his head. He hadn’t.

“The way Kate and I play it is that you just take turns asking questions until twenty questions have been asked. You can’t lie and you have to answer it no matter what.” You explained. Bucky nodded. It seemed simple enough.

“Okay. I’ll go first.” You decided. “Hm..are you left handed or right handed?”

This was an easy question. “I’m right-handed.” Bucky answered.

“That’s one question. Now it’s your turn.”

Bucky couldn’t think of a question. There were so many things he could ask, but he wasn’t sure what qualified as a good question. He could ask your favorite color, but would that be too basic? He could ask where you would want to live if you weren’t an Avenger, but would that be too personal?

“C’mon, it’s easy. First thing off the top of your head.” You encouraged.

“How did you meet Kate?” He decided on an easier question, at least to start the game.

“When Clint brought her to the Compound. She made a Shrek joke, and then it just kinda happened.” You explained. Bucky had no idea what a ‘Shrek’ was, but he just went along with it.

“What’s your favorite color?”

Before the war, before HYDRA, Bucky would’ve said blue. Sergeant James B. Barnes would’ve said blue. Blue like the sky on a sunny day, blue like the ocean on a tropical island far away. Blue like Steve’s eyes, blue like his sister’s favorite and nicest dress.

He still is that Bucky. Just..different, now.

“Pink.” He answered simply.

“Pink?” The way you echoed it wasn’t mocking, nor disbelieving. Bucky didn’t really know what it meant.

“Pink.” He nodded. Pink like the sweatshirts in the men’s section in stores, pink like the sky when the sun’s setting. Pink like Natasha’s old ballet outfit from the time where he trained Widows in the Red Room. There was no pink in HYDRA. He was sure of that.

The game continued, but parts of Bucky’s mind lingered on the subject. He had a favorite color. He was free enough and in control to have a favorite of something. And his favorite color was pink.

---------------------------------------------

(My apologies if your blog couldn't be tagged- I have no idea why it won't work.)

Taglist: @afraidofshrimp @laughterafter @cjand10 @kandis-mom @emmsybucky @mrsnotfeelingsogood @matchat3a @identity2212

[artisticdivasworld]

Managing Stress on the Road: A Guide for New Truck Drivers

If you bought it, a trucker hauled it. As we celebrate National Truck Driver Appreciation Week, it’s important to not only acknowledge the hard work and dedication of drivers but also to address the challenges they face on the road—especially the stress that comes with the job. For new drivers, adjusting to long hours, unpredictable schedules, and the isolation that comes with being on the road…

[luna-andra]

The Shadows Return | Simon 'Ghost' Riley x OC Retired AU | Chapter 1: Smoke Signals

Summary:

Lieutenant Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley retired from the forces; Task Force 141 was decommissioned once they completed their last mission. Take down Shepherd. Everyone on the team stayed in touch, as well as the other comrades they met along the way. Los Vaqueros. KorTac. And many others. Shadow Company - what remained of it - slipped under the shadows and scattered themselves into the wind. Riley made the decision not to return back to Manchester. He was only less than 30 minutes away on the outskirts in Disley. Soap had put in a good word for Ghost with a local mechanic shop, and having nothing else but military experience and some basic mechanic skills he accepted it.

It was a quiet life, at least that’s what he thought. He started recognizing signs that he was being followed, watched. Maybe it was just the PTSD making him believe it. Until it got so much worse when he became acquainted with his neighbor miles down the old dirt path road, he realized that he would never be free from his past life.

CONTENT WARNING: Violence, eventual smut, MDNI (18+), slow burn, fluff, mentions of mental health

***Chapter 2 is already published on AO3, link in bio!***

He could see the smoke rising from down the street as he was piling into his work truck. “The hell..?” No one should be coming down this road, no one else but him and the farmer neighbor. The chance of some lone driver coming this way was slim to none; they were a mile down from the next main road, and this road ended in a dead end at that. Curiosity got the best of him. Ghost climbed into the cabin of the truck and turned the key into the ignition. His truck rolled down his driveway and he took a right in the direction of the smoke.

Immediately he spotted the farmer’s truck, stalled out in the direction of going down to their house. He reached for his skull balaclava and slipped it over his face, concealing himself naturally. He pulled up right behind the truck and cut the engine, leaving the cabin to approach the truck. Gravel crunched beneath his heavy feet as he took in a grounding inhale, his fist flexed beside him.

The hood was popped open. Ghost could hear the hissing of the engine, followed with aggravated curses coming from what sounded like a woman. He could see her little frame aggravated at her vehicle failing her. “Ma’am, do you need help?”

Her head peered over from the side of the hood. She squinted at first and her brows furrowed in confusion, followed by her honey brown eyes widening in caution.

Ghost put up his hands, realizing how menacing he must fucking look. She couldn’t have been taller than five foot three while he towered at six foot two. His stature could easily overpower hers. Can’t be more than 58 kilos. “I’m your neighbor, I saw your accidental smoke signal from up the road.” He pointed behind him in the direction of his house.

Her shoulders relaxed, but her eyes remained cold and hard as he neared closer to her. Or at least tried to look that way. “Yeah, my truck stalled out on me and started smoking up. Just my fucking luck,” she snarled as she kicked the passenger side tire with her small foot.

“Easy there, gonna fracture that foot.” Ghost immediately noticed that she had an American accent. What’s an American doing out in rural UK? “Let me take a look at it. I got my tools in my truck.”

She blew out a frustrated exhale as she ran a hand through her short brown hair. “Thank you, neighbor..”

“It’s Ghost-” he couldn’t stop himself from finishing his introduction. Still calling himself by his call sign after all of this time. “Simon, I mean.” His true name coming from his own mouth felt unfamiliar, like he hadn’t been Simon in a long time.

She raised an eyebrow at him, amusement kindling in her eyes. “Is Ghost a nickname you go by?”

“Something like that,” He muttered. “Be right back.” Ghost trudged back to his own truck to grab his gloves and tool bag. Fuckin’ hell… sound like a stupid sod. He slammed the door of his cabin and made his way back, watching her lean up against the truck as her chestnut hair blew in the gentle breeze. He took in every detail of her; from the way her red and black plaid shirt was coming untucked at her faded jeans, to how her fingers tapped against her thigh like she was suppressing her irritation at this inconvenience. There was a definition in her arms if you looked hard enough, you could catch her flex the muscle she had. Realizing it was probably creepy, he shook his head and returned his attention to her truck.

“I’m Andra, by the way,” she uttered insecurely.

Ghost peered up to her and nodded. “Pleasure to meet ya.” He got to work trying to diagnose what the issue at hand was, gloving up his calloused hands. She stepped around where she was propped up against the truck to watch Ghost work, eyes peeking up to his masked face every now and then. A silence loomed over them for a moment. He’s used to people talking his ear off, but she was as quiet as a mouse. She's likely still apprehensive with meeting Ghost this way, and he didn’t blame her. “What brought an American to the countryside of the UK, Andra?”

Andra crossed her arms over her chest as she shifted on the balls of her feet. “A couple of different things, honestly.” There was a miniscule southern drawl in the inflection of her voice. Ghost would have easily missed it if he wasn’t paying attention.

“Name one,” he asked gruffly, still concentrating on finding the problem.

Her hair wisped around as she looked away, down the dead end street. “I wanted a new start. Threw a dart at a map and this is where I landed.”

He chuckled to himself, not believing her for one second. No one wanted to come live in Disley, there was nothing out here. “Must have poor aim.” He paused before considering his next question, but he went for it anyway. “Just you?”

“Just me.”

The tone in her voice didn’t reflect any kind of sadness, or anger for that matter. She just stated it with conviction.

 After a thorough look, he stood up straight and rested a hand on the lid of the hood. “It’s a transmission issue.”

Andra groaned and threw her head back. “Just what I needed.”

Ghost pushed the hood shut and pulled his gloves off. “I can tow it to my shop and we can see what we can do about it. We can do some kind of payment plan-”

“No, it’s okay I can pay outright,” Andra protested. “I’m not worried about the cost, I just worry about how long it’s gonna be in the shop for.”

He tapped his fingers on the hood. “I can give you a more accurate time frame and quote when I take it there.”

Andra nodded, clapping her hands together. “Alright, let’s get her in the shop.” Ghost reached down to grab his tool bag and she smiled at him. “Thank you for coming to my aid. You didn’t have to stop to help me.”

Ghost didn’t say anything else, just gave her a terse nod and returned to his truck.

----

Andra felt confined in the large cabin of Ghost’s - Simon’s? -  truck. The drive there was filled with silence. He allowed her to ride with him on the way, and she couldn’t help but think that this is how her murder mystery, unsolved case would begin. A hunking, bulky masked man pretending to assist a tiny American woman, whilst towing her own vehicle. He could easily get rid of her truck, take it to a chop shop and make her disappear. No one would care about an immigrant being found.

Andra tried to shake those thoughts away. He truly appeared to be genuine about his intentions. It was probably good business for his mechanic shop, too. Ghost insisted on driving her back, or at least paying for the taxi or Uber for the way back, but she wouldn’t let him. He had helped plenty enough, moreso helped when they had only just met.

“Where in the states are you from?” Ghost’s brassy British voice broke the uncomfortable silence, keeping his eyes on the road with one hand on the wheel, the other arm resting on the windowsill of the door. His biceps bulged out from the short-sleeved black shirt he wore. The arm closest to her, gripping the wheel, was littered with tattoos. She was too nervous to take a closer look at what they were, to her it was monochrome art littering his tanned skin.

“South, from Texas,” Andra responded truthfully.

He took a quick glance at her inquisitively before returning his focus on the road and let out a heavy exhale. "Texas is nice..." he muttered a response.

Andra was surprised, turning to look at him. "You've been to the states?" Her eyes roamed to the tattoos on his arm once again, noticing what looked like could be military insignia patches. "Wait, you're prior military, aren't you?"

Ghost stiffened, realizing that he gave himself away. "I was in special forces, SAS. Crossed the border into Texas on a mission."

Andra had to keep her jaw from dropping in disbelief. It was making sense now, though, and she laughed softly before looking back to the road ahead of them, now seeing civilization greeting them. "So Ghost was your call sign?"

He side eyed her with furrowed brows. "Are you a veteran?"

She relaxed further into her seat, feeling comfortable enough to open up more to him. "Half of my family is prior military; father, granddad, several uncles, a brother. I'm a little more versed than the average civilian, involuntarily."

He hummed in acknowledgement. Silence fell over them once again. Andra was inclined to find out more about her mysterious neighbor. “Did you grow up here in Disley?”

He took a second to answer her back. “Manchester,” Ghost responded. “Couldn’t stand being in the city, I enjoy the quiet.”

Andra smiled, “I agree.” her hands flittered with the edge of her shirt. “Was there anything you enjoyed while you were in Texas?” She felt like an idiot trying to draw out the conversation from him.

“Not particularly. It’s hot as hell there.”

She cracked up at his response. “You’re not wrong. That’s the one thing I do not miss from there. So much cooler here in the Summer. I do miss having a/c, though.”

He laughed, the rich sound vibrated through her. “That is one thing you Americans do have that we don’t.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “I bet you’ve been to so many places.”

An agreeing rumble came from his throat. “Lost count.”

Ghost was short when it came to small talk, but Andra didn’t mind. Her concern of going missing was put on the back burner in the recesses of her mind. It never ceased to amaze her that the saying “small world” rings true no matter how many times it has occurred in her life. She couldn’t refrain from her growing curiosity.

But her curiosity would have to lead her to revealing more than she may be comfortable with.

----

Andra sat in the waiting area while Ghost unloaded her truck and pulled it into the shop. He had to explain to everyone else what the hold-up was about, but they shrugged indifferently.

“That’s fine,” Rus said as he turned his head to peer at him. “Just don’t take anything other than financial compensation for her work, you hear?” 

Ghost glared at him with disgust when Rus chuckled. He was well aware of how vile some of the mechanics could be in his shop, but it never crossed his mind to entertain similar behavior.

Soap approached Ghost as he wiped his hands with an oily rag. “Who’s the pretty thing that came in with you?”

Ghost was growing irrationally irritated with everyone making comments about Andra, and Soap was no exception to his wrath. His eyes darkened as he silently assaulted him with a venomous glare. “No one.”

“C’mon, Ghost.” Soap followed him to the back of the shop, “You’re not the kind of guy to be picking up random lasses, and I can count on one hand how many have gone wit’ ye anywhere voluntarily. ‘Course they were sloshed at the tim-”

“Johnny.” He growled his last warning.

“Alright,” he dropped the subject and returned to work mode, assisting Ghost with the lift. “Is this her truck?”

“Yeah.”

Ghost kept a watchful eye on her, taking note on how she brushed the hem of her shirt with her small hands. Her eyes scanned inside the shop, examining everyone’s face. When she found him, he looked back down at the diagnostics terminal, and he avoided her gaze for the rest of the time until he absolutely had to approach her.

There was a persistent thought in the back of his mind he kept revolving back around to. Why is an American woman from Texas here? It had to be the wildest coincidence known to man, right? There were times where Ghost would get the sense that he was being followed. Watched. When he went out to the pub with Johnny, while he worked sometime. Even when the two of them would go on hunting trips, where no one else should know of their location. He couldn’t shake the notion that there were watchful eyes beyond the high ground.

It bothered her how easily she trusted him. Accepting help from a neighbor you know is one thing, but from a complete stranger? And why was said stranger so eager to help her in the first place? Ghost’s neck tensed up, he rolled his head as he could feel a headache blooming in his temples.

Soap always told him that he was being paranoid, and he was probably right. If there was something afoot, he could count on him to detect if something was off.

----

Andra had already hailed for a cab, it would be a little while before they could arrive to take her home. She didn’t mind the delay; she was still waiting for Ghost to give her the ETA and the quote on the repair. She sat in the lobby patiently, inspecting her nails as her leg bobbed, crossed over the other. I should’ve grabbed my book from the truck, she regretted. 

Andra had scrolled through her social media and grew bored of that easily. All she was seeing was updates from old friends back home. She didn’t want to be reminded how far away she was from old connections and family. It made her homesick, a notion she refused to acknowledge.

The door to the main workshop swung open, and Ghost walked through. She stood up from her chair as he walked up to her. “I’m sorry for making you wait, I am looking for a supplier to send us the parts sooner than what I have been getting.”

“How long are we talking?” Andra asked nervously.

“Two months.” He answered.

She exhaled in defeat, running a hand through her hair and it fell back in place. “That’s gonna put me in a super tight spot, I won’t be able to sell at the farmer’s market.”

Ghost shifted from one foot to another, looking down at her. “I’m not finished going through our list of suppliers, so I will let you know if anyone can send parts in sooner. In the meantime,” he handed out a plain business card to her. “I put my personal cell number on the back so you can call later or tomorrow for an update.”

Andra took the card and looked down at it before glancing back up to his implicit eyes. “Thanks, Ghost. You really saved me today.”

He nodded. “Do you have any belongings you need to get from your truck?”

“Oh yes,” she remembered. “I just wanted to get my book from inside. It’s sitting on the passenger seat up front.” 

Ghost insisted on retrieving it for her. He opened the passenger door and found the well loved book laying there, looking back up to him. He made note of the title and the author; it sounded like a mystery-horror type of read. Ghost wiped his hand off on his work pants to avoid staining the cover and pulled it out before closing the door. He went back to the lobby and handed the book to her. “Get home safe,” he cleared off as he turned away from her and returned to the shop.

Andra turned over the business card, studying his scratchy handwriting. It was legible enough for her to make out the numbers, and she smirked as he scribbled ‘Ghost’ below.

[vaspider]

I'm not sure if you've had to deal with the discourse over whether mental health issues qualify as disabilities lately but I just realized i have a recent anecdote pertinent to the discussion.

I'm a truck mechanic. I work on the vehicles sometimes called big rigs, eighteen-wheelers, semis, and probably many other names. Vehicles designed to haul freight on highways. I think you and most of your followers get the idea.

Several years ago, ugly things happened to people i considered friends. I feel a level of responsibility for what happened but people I've told the story to insist it wasn't my fault. People who were there tell me the same thing. I still can't shake the feeling but my objective level of blame is irrelevant.

About a month and a half ago, something i won't be elaborating on very vividly reminded me of what happened. That reminder sent me on a spiral. I literally could not stop thinking about what happened. Literally nothing else was on my mind. I had to go into work for a swing shift (4pm-midnight) that day. I had to do an oil change on a truck. I forgot to reinstall the drain plug because i was distracted by thoughts on ugly things from my past, so when I tried to pour oil into the engine, the oil just spilled straight onto the ground. I didn't notice what I'd done until I'd wasted nine gallons of oil that way. I corrected my mistake, concluded the service, and started my next job, another oil change.

I still couldn't think about ANYTHING besides events I can't change and a burning desire to make things right. I did most of the oil change service then had the customer start the engine of his truck... Before i added any oil. The driver saw a "low oil pressure" warning on his dashboard and stopped the engine before it was too late but had he been less attentive, his engine would've been totaled, costing my company $50k USD or possibly even more. The only reasons i didn't lose my job are because my boss likes me and defended me to the corporate safety people, and because i have no other similar mistakes on record.

I've since learned that this is consistent with Real Event Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, a subset of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder wherein the afflicted is hyperfixated on correcting past mistakes. Obsession with one's quality as a person, with one's morality, is the defining symptom. I haven't been diagnosed yet but I recently started therapy; my therapist might be able to provide such a diagnosis and help me deal.

The reason I'm telling you this is because it provides you with another data point in that argument i mentioned at the beginning of this ask. Mental illness nearly destroyed a truck and interfered with time-sensitive logistics. It nearly cost both a driver and his company significant amounts of money and lost time. Mental illness nearly cost me my career. If mental illness can take an otherwise-competent mechanic and turn them into a confused and distracted mess incapable of the simplest job a mechanic can do, i think it qualifies as a disability as much as, say, cerebral palsy or Parkinson's, or any other disabling medical condition.

(I'm probably gonna get hate mail and mockery (not from you, from the peanut gallery) for telling you about this major fuck-up but whatever. Maybe this anecdote will change some minds that need changing.)

Yeah, sounds about right. 💗

[eonian-nightmare]

If you know me, I'm a podcast addict, and as such I have alot of opinions about alot of podcasts/concept albums/audiobooks, so I decided to make a masterlist; which rates these on a 5 Star Rating System.

[Note: This list is ongoing an will be updated at random points indefinetly]

***Currently listening to: Our Wives Under the Sea***

》 Alice Isn't Dead: An audio diary by a truck driver in her search across America for the wife she had long assumed was dead

Content Warnings: Body Horror, Cannabalism, Gaslighting, Kiddnaping, Mental Health Issues, Possesion, Stalking, Torture,

Themes: Drama, Memior, Horror, Mystery, Roadtrip, Supernatural & WLW

Notes: The story was interesting and steadily paced. I enjoyed it, I just wasn't gripped with excitement to finish it. It was entertaining, just a bit bland for my taste

[Rating: ☆☆☆]

》 Archive 81: An archivist takes a job restoring damaged videotapes, but finds themselves getting pulled into a mystery involving the missing director and a mysterious cult that they were documenting.

Content Warnings: Addiction, Body Horror, Child Abuse, Drowninv, Gaslighting, Kidnapping, Mental Health Issues, Possession, PTSD, Self Harm, Suicide, Stalking, Torture, Themes: Anthology, Drama, Horror, Mystery & Supernatural

Themes: Anthology, Drama, Horror, Mystery & Supernatural

Notes: I liked it as a concept. But I found that I couldn't keep attention on it. If it progressed a bit quicker maybe I could have completed it, but I lost interest and abandoned it.

[Rating: ☆☆]

》 The Bifrost Incident: A retelling of Norse myth, framed as mystery, set on an interplanetary train, using rock and prog style music.

Content Warnings: Body Horror, Kiddnapping, Mass Death, Possesion, Suicide,

Themes: Lovecraftian, Music, History, Folk Rock, Eldritch, Drama, Queer,

Notes: the songs are a bop and the ending made me sob like a baby

[Rating: ☆☆☆☆]

》 Critical Role: A band of professional voice actors improvise, role-play, and roll their way through an epic Dungeons and Dragons campaign

Content Warnings: Alchhol Use, Dead Animals, Child Abuse, Gaslighting, Kiddnapping, Mental Health Issues, Possesion, Recreational Drug Use, Self Harm, Stalking, Torture, Violence,

Themes: Dungeons & Dragons, Fantasy, Magic, RPG

Notes: This is an fun, and adventure filled tale. It's a roller-coaster of emotions. It's just soooooo long.[Rating: ☆☆☆]

》 Deviser: In this series Son wakes up aboard a spaceship bound for earth in an effort to recolonize. What he discovers however will change everything he knows about his world and him.

Content Warnings: Animal Cruelty, Body Horror, Cloning, Human Experimentation, Gaslighting, Mass Death, Self Harm, Torture,

Themes: Apocalypse, Horror, Isolation, Sci-Fi, Space etc.

Notes: Not my usual cup of tea but a good short podcast with an addictive plot.

[Rating: ☆☆☆☆]

》 Jonathan Sim's Family Business Audiobook: after the death of her QRP, Diya picks up work cleaning up after dead people.

Content Warnings: death, gore and corpses, derealisation, unreality, prompted feelings of insignificance, etc

Themes: horror, thriller, suspense, grief, supernatural

Notes: Typical Jonny Sims work. Irked me to my core. I loved it.

[Rating: ☆☆☆☆]

》 Good Omens Full Cast Production Audiobook: An angel and a demon try to thwart the ineffable apocalypse.

Themes: Comedy, Fantasy, Supernatural, Religious

Content Warnings: Religious themes, mild gaslighting, smoking

Notes: I just love my ineffable husbands

[Rating: ☆☆☆☆]

》 Limetown: Journalist Lia Haddock attempts to solve the mystery behind the disappearance of over 300 people at a neuroscience research facility in Tennessee.

Content Warnings: Animal Abuse, Bodily Harm, Child Death, Mass Death, Gaslighting, Graphic Images of Violence Human Experimentation, Human Torture, Kidnapping, Refferences to PTSD/Flashbacks, Refferences to Suicide, Self Harm, Stalking, etc

Themes: Drama, Mystery, Queer, Sci Fi, Supernatural Abilities, Thriller, Technology

Notes: It's the first podcast I ever fell in love with, I was so intrigued by Limetown as a concept. It kept me engaged and heartbroken all at the same time.

[Rating: ☆☆☆☆ ]

》 The Magnus Archives: A queer horror podcast about what lurks in the Archives of The Magnus Institue.

Content Warnings: Animal Abuse, Adicction, Body Horror, Being Buried Alive, Cannabalism, Gaslighting, Kidnapping, Medical Malpractice, Mental Instability, Refferences to Child Abuse/ Neglect, Refferences to drug/alcohol use, Spiders- God so many spiders, Scopophobia, Self Harm, Stalking, Suicide, Trypophobia, Uncanny, Unreality, and so much more. For a full list please read individual episode warnings

Themes: Anthology, Mystery, Horror, Queer, Supernatural Themes.

[This is also my main special interest. I can connect magnus to everything. My students (I am a teacher) judge me for my laptop covered in magnus stickers. My friends know the entire plot and haven't even listened to it. They sat for 5 hours to let me rant from beginning to end.]

[Rating: ☆☆☆☆☆]

》 Malevolent: In the early 1900s a PI wakes up with no memory, no sight and an equally confused voice instru cting him to hide a body. Together these two must work together to solve the mystery on who they are, what their connection is and most importantly how to co- inhabitant the body they must now share.

Content Warnings: Body Horror, Cannabalism, Cults, Child Neglect, Dead Child, Drowning, Gaslighting, Humans Hunted, Mental Health Issues, Kiddnapping, Possesion, PTSD/Flashbacks, Sucidal Characters,

Themes: Faustian, Lovecraftian, Mystery, Horror, Psychological, Queer, & Supernatural

Notes: This podcast is so personal to me. It hit quite close to home during a vulnerable time for me and gave me the strength I needed while low. PLUS I JUST LOVE THEIR DYNAMIC.

[This is also a special interest to me.]

[Rating: ☆☆☆☆☆]

》 Myths Baby: Join Liv Albert as she discusses Greek Mythology.

Content Warning: Lots of discussion of Rape.

Themes: Education, Greek Mythology

Notes: The author claims to be a classics expert, yet has admitted to never reading the source material. She goes further to use sources that are known to be incredibly biased and uses her distorted perception to villanse culturally significant Greek heroes but idolise hedonistic assholes.

[Rating: ☆]

》 No Sleep: Reddit users submit their freaky stories

Content Warnings: Various Episode to episode but generally strong Unreality vibes

Themes: Anthology, Creative Works, Horror, Thriller & Supernatural

Note: I enjoy the series, but honestly I find reading the tales/ the thread more engaging

[Rating: ☆☆]

》 Shipworm: A one of a kind audio movie, in which a man is mplanted with an untraceable earpiece while sleeping. So long as he does everything the voice on the other end tells him, he and his family will live.

Content Warning: Violence, Mental Health Issues & Unreality,

Themes: Audio Movie, Mystery, Science Fiction & Technology

Notes: Its really easy to place yourself in the story, it was an incredibly detailed audio environment.

[Rating: ☆☆☆☆]

》 Stella Firma

Content Warnings:

Themes: Adventure, Comedy, Improv, Science- Fiction & Space

Notes: This show is such random ass comedy. It's honestly so stupid and I love it. Plus Ben Meredith is in it and I just love him.

[Rating: ☆☆☆]

》 Tiny Terrors: The Tiny Terrors story exchange is a writing exchange program that explores message boards & pre-internet recordings of spooky stories to share with their listeners.

Content Warnings:

Themes: Anthology, Creative Writing, Found-Footage Horror.

Notes: I do love the concept behind this, I do think the series has a lot of potential, it's engaging.

[Rating: ☆☆☆]

》 Welcome to Nightvale: A radio host provides a cryptic supernatural dessert town with community updates.

Content Warnings: Animal Cruelty, Alcholism, Addiction, Body Horror, Childhood Abuse/Neglect, Canabalism, Gaslighting, Kiddnapping, Mental Health Issues, Memory Issues, Mirrors, Possesion, PTSD, Recreational Drug Use, Scopophobia, Self Harm, Stalking, Unreality

Themes: Comedy, Conspiracy, Horror, Mystery, Queer, Science Fiction & Supernatural

Notes: This podcast is just so uniquely original. It's comedic approach is something similar to how I personally view horror. Plus it changed the podcast community on a fundamental level; it deserves its stars.

[An this podcast marks the 3rd of my holy trinity of special interest podcasts]

[Rating: ☆☆☆☆☆]

》 36 Questions: Two lovers who have fallen apart due to lies, use the 36 questions—an experiment known for making strangers fall in love—to save their own relationship.

Themes: Comedy, Musical, Romance, Drama

Content Warnings: Alcohol use, Drink Driving, Drug Use, Overdosing, Parental Neglect

Notes: Its a good short podcast that can be completed during a long road trip. I found it very emotionally engaging, and liked the progression of the story

[Rating: ☆☆☆]

》 Epic: An Odysseus Story: A musical retelling of the Odyssey

Content Warnings: Bodily Harm, Death of a Child, Depictions of Violence, War (to be updated as songs are released)

Themes: History, Musical, Action, Drama, Violence

Notes: I have never heard fights been so well described in songs. Plus the music suits the myths so well, and has me falling in love with Greek Mythology all over again

[Rating: ☆☆☆☆]

To type review up

I am in Escrew

Watcher in the rain

Faceless Old woman

Death by dying

Rules for vanishing

》 Intending to Consume 《

Hello from Hallowoods

Supersuits

Knifepoint Horror

Kings Fall Am

The Arkham Sessions

Spines

The Silt Verse

Batman Unburied

Rabbits

The Black Tapes

Devil Town

Old Gods of Appalachia

Case 63

Harley Quinn: Sound Mind

[mouthsfullofsharpteeth]

job headcanons for marble hornets

was thinking about how troy and joseph were saying that tim was likely working as a contractor or garbage man of some kind during the events of marble hornets, and it got me thinking about what jobs he and the others might have had. gonna say maybe just in a college setting, because i think tim was the only one out of the main four that actually kept a job while marble hornets was going down.

Alex- i think in his senior year of high school, he probably got his first job at some kind of gas station or maybe mowing lawns. in college, he would definitely have a movie theatre job, and i think when his hipster phase starts up, he becomes a barista

Jay- he worked at blockbuster until it went out of business. also i know some people joke about jay being a trust fund baby, but i could not disagree less however i have found a middle ground. he lives with his single mom but gets child support checks once a month from his uber rich dad that did not mean to get Jay’s college student mom pregnant. so they have some money but he is not a trust fund by any means. but anyway i think he also works at a grocery store and maybe also the same movie theatre alex works at

Tim- i think they have the right idea, because of tim’s mental health he probably struggles to keep jobs sadly. i feel like for this reason, he tries to keep several at a time so if he gets fired from one he doesnt end up completely unemployed. probably ends up being like labor and customer service stuff, though he’s not great at customer service. I have an image of truck driver tim in my mind now too tho he could totally do that and slay

Brian- he’s got major bar tender vibes. he’s socially awkward but still extroverted, so talking with people that are drinking alcohol makes is less stressful LOLOL. he’s also got barista or waiter vibes

[corie-is-writing]

↳ ❝ [S Y N P O S I S] ¡! ❞

Y/n L/n, a simple minded reader, is one of the biggest fans of a popular web novel, Twisted wonderland. In their shock after finding out it has ended, they froze in the middle of a busy street and got hit by a truck.

Dizzy and confused, they have awoken in a coffin in the world they adore so much, and must use their knowledge to survive and stop the boys from overblotting.

A/n: I just realized the first paragraph disappeared omfg

2nd a/n: two paragraphs from the story were missing wtf

↳ ❝ [M A S T E R L I S T] ¡! ❞

↳ ❝ [WELCOME TO THE VILLAINS WORLD] ¡! ❞

˗ˏˋ How'd I get here? ´ˎ˗

Walking through the busy streets, you stop at a red light in the sidewalk. Scrolling through the webnovel on your phone while waiting for the lights to turn green.

You had just finished playing the latest episode on the game version of your favorite novel, [Twisted Wonderland.]

Originally a webnovel, adapted into a physical copy and game, it is a story where a teen named Yuuya ends up into a twisted version of wonderland, where he befriends a beast and characters that are based off of disney villains and attend a magical school called Night Raven College.

With the new friends he has made, they fight against troubled students who have overblotted, which is basically the magic version of a mental breakdown.

The latest episode of the game drove you to tears, Idia's voice actor did such a good job, but damn, it took you hours to defeat his overblot form and Ortho! But the ending made you so excited to finally finish the novel and see what happens next.

You sighed, reaching the last piece of paragraph just as the light turns green. You begin walking, excited to finish the chapter and read the next.

Out the corner of your eye, you see a short text in bold, one that made you stop you in your tracks and widen your eyes.

"Author's note: Will be on hiatus until furthur notice!"

"What."

What indeed, there's no way you cried a whole night catching up with the novel just for it to suddenly to be on hiatus?!

The author doesn't even explain why?! You groan, 'Alright, calm down! there must be a good explanation!' Of course, they must.

maybe they're burnt out from helping with the physical copies and the games, afterall, they're the artist as well! Maybe they're health isn't doing well, or there is some personal problems they'd rather not share.

In your thoughts you fail to notice the angered drivers beeping, waiting for you to finally move, as well as the sudden shouts and cries as the pedestrians and drivers turn to see a truck driving so reckelssly.

"God damn it! work you little shit!" The driver yells, steering the wheel and hitting the breaks, yet to no avail.

As you're about to move, you snap your head to the sounds of loud beepings, just to be met with a truck inches away from your face.

"Eh?"

𓆩♡𓆪

You awake to the sound of loud shuffling and a headache, your whole body is sore. "Is it morning already..?" You whisper.

You try to stretch yet your arms stay bent, you blink, realizing you're confined in a small space.

The panic settles it, your breath quickens as you look around the dark space. 'What..did I get kidnapped..?' You think.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to remember what you saw or did last. You recall walking through the busy streets, reading chapter 6 of twisted wonderland that has recently been published.

And the truck.

The truck that was so close to you, you could smell the mud and oil it has been through, feel the heat emitting from it, blinded by it's headlights, and the touch of the rough metallic texture as it meets your skin.

You could still feel the aftermath of the quick collision between you and the truck.

You're whole body was now screaming in agony as you recall that awful memory, were you..dead?

'No way..how am I thinking and moving if I'm dead?' You shake off that thought, did you survive? maybe everyone thought you died and decided to bury you already.

You are snapped out of your thoughts as the shuffling grows louder, you listen in, able to hear a voice.

"Crap, people are coming.. gotta get a uniform while..grrr!" You are startled as you hear the raspy voice belonging to someone, who was that? were you actually kidnapped? and why did he growl?!

"Tch, this lid is too heavy.. time for my secret move!" You hear the mysterious voice take a deep breath, suddenly, blue fire surrounds your view and melts the lock of the enclosure you were trapped in.

Tripping out of the place ('Is that..a floating coffin?' You question yourself) you widen your eyes in surprise as you look around the place and fire. "B-blue fire?!"

"Ok,ok. gotta get.." You turn to the source of the voice, he looks up at you as well, shocked. "WHAA- WHY ARE YOU AWAKE!?"

You can't believe what you're seeing, a blue eyed talking tanuki looking cat with fiery blue flames in his hears, paired with his grey fur and white fluff around his neck and the raspy annoying voice of his..this can't be..!

'Grim?!' On the ground, you sit there motionless with your jaw hanging low, how the fuck-

"What are you looking at like that!" He snaps you out of your thoughts, this wasn't in the game or novel..well, maybe because of you?

'Holy shit does this mean I'm Yuu now?!' You feel giddy and excited, smiling. Were you finally going to be the heroic main character you've always dreamed of being?

"what's with the smile? Well, whatever. Hey, human! Gimme those clothes already! otherwise.." Grim's eyes sharpen as he smirks, his claws out. "I'll burn ya!"

You shiver, and immediately get up from the floor, booking it quickly. 'There's no time for questions, y/n, survival first!' You think.

You run through the large halls, not wasting time to take in every detail (unfortunately for you). Grim chases behind closely.

You end up lost in a dead end, a place full of books. 'In the story, Yuu gets lost in the library while running from Grim, is this it?'

You don't have time to answer your own questions as Grim runs in, laughing. "Did you really you'd get away from me, dumb human?!" He yells, it wasn't really a question.

"Hand over those clothes before I-" He doesn't get to finish his words before he is suddenly tied by a rope. "BWAAH! What's with this rope?!"

Grim struggles to move out the ropes and tried to bite into it, before turning to the culprit that caused this. You can't contain your excitement. 'The sussy deadbeat dad is here!'

"It is no mere rope, it is the lash of love!" A masked man in a suit announces. "Ah! found you at last, you're the new student, no?" He says, looking at you.

"This won't do, you mustn't leave the gates or take untamed familiars with you!" The man lightly scolds, Grim doesn't seem all too happy to be called a familiar.

"Let me go! who you callin' familiar?!" he yells, wiggling around in the rope. Crowley just shakes his head, ignoring him.

"That's what all rebellious beasts say.." He sighs, grabbing him and shutting his mouth. "It's quite rare for a student to open the gate on their own.. Uuugh, how impatient must you be?" He turns to you, you just look at him with a smile, he seems a little taken back by that.

"Hurry on now! the ceremony has already started." Crowley says and begins to make his way to the hall of mirrors, you follow closely behind, shaking of excitement slightly.

'O.M.G! Headmaster Crowley is right in front if me?! how is this possible..!' It seems all the excitement by being isekaied into your favorite game and novel has made you forget about your hatred for Crowley.

The whole time you were walking to the hall of mirrors, Grim was staring at you, wondering why you had such a strange look on your face.

𓆩♡𓆪

The walk to the hall of mirrors was longer than it was in the novel or game, possibly because there are no skips in this world. Not to mention– the halls seem longer and the school in general is a lot bigger than on screen or how it was described in the novel.

You take in every little detail, looking around the place in excitement. You never would have guessed you would end up in the story you loved the most.

The three of you (Grim included) finally reach the hall of mirrors, you here a muffled voice, yet clear enough to understand.

"Did he get a stomachace?" At that, Crowley barges in through the doors.

"No, I have not!" His voice echoes through the dark halls, catching the attention of the students and even startling some.

The background students, surprisingly, all look very different, despite the game not caring much and reusing the same models for them.

The ones you recognize the most, however, are the ones that get your heartbeat going and your smile grow wider, the main characters of the book and game!

"Ah, he's here." A red haired boy acknowledges. Crowley steps forward with you in tow, Grim still being carried around like a bag.

"I cannot believe you all, we were missing a student so I went to fetch them." He explains before turning to you, "You're the only one without an assigned dormitory, I shall watch over your familiar, so step up to the dark mirror." Crowley instructs.

You walk up to the mirror, it seems a lot more scarier and realistic than you remember.

"State thy name." It says, the voice booming loud. You think for a moment, wondering if you should tell your name or no, but decided to tell your real name anyway.

"Y/n." You simply say, leaving out your last name.

"The shape of thy soul is..unknown."

"Come again?" Crowley asks, tilting his head slightly.

"I sense not a spark of magic in this one." Says the mirror before continuing. "The color, the shape, all nothing, therefore, there are no dorms suited for them.

It was silent for what seemed like an eternity, then came the waves of whispers amongst the students, confusion apparent on their faces and voices.

You definitely don't remember the mirror's words hurting this much, nor the feeling of anxiety and fear rushing through you as you notice all eyes are on you.

"The ebony carriage has never picked up a magicless student." Crowley finally speaks, "Since a hundred years, there was never a problem in the student selection..so why now?!" His words do nothing to soothe your anxious state.

At that, Grim breaks free from the headmaster's hold, ripping the rope apart and smirking mischievously. "Then I'll take their place!" he says.

"Stay right there raccoon!" yells the headmaster, yet his words does not effect the wild beast, whose flames seem to grow bigger at every second.

"Unlike that magicless human– I can actually do magic! Let me in the school now! I'll prove it to ya!" Grim says confidently, taking a deep breath in.

Riddle, alarmed, immediately yells to the other students. "Get down, quick!"

"Nnnah!!!" Grim exhales, fire comes out of his mouth, catching the venue on fire. You quickly move out of the way, grabbing a careless student along with you.

"Phew, that was close.. Thanks!" The student says, his voices catches you off guard.

'Is that-' You don't have much time to think as Grim continues to burn down the school.

The headmaster yells out for someone to catch that beast, while two students have a light banter, another set of students go out to catch the running Grim.

'Oh gee, this is gonna take a while.' You sigh.

𓆩♡𓆪

"OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!" Yells the red head, with his words came a heart shaped collar around the silly beast.

"NYGAAH! What's with this collar!?" Said beast yells, his blue eyes widening as he looks down at the collar.

"Laws of the Queen of Hearts: Number 23 "One shall never bring a cat to a festival." You being a cat breaks the rules, I shall escort you out at once." Riddle says.

"I'm not a cat! I'll burn this collar and.." Grim's confusion grows as he realizes he is unable to use his magic. "Huh?! Why can't I use my magic?!"

Riddle huffs, "You won't be using any magic until I remove the collar, you'll be just like an ordinary house cat." He mocked.

"What?! I'm not some pet!" The beast yells, his scowl growing wider.

Riddle smirks as he picks up Grim. "Don't worry, I'd never keep a cat like you." He sneers, "I'll take it off once you're thrown out." His words don't reassure the beast.

Azul begins to speak up. "Wow, as wonderful as ever. Any and all magic get's sealed by your unique magic, Riddle." He gives an unneeded explanation towards no one in particular.

"I must simply have..Ahem! I mean, I wouldn't have that cast on me." He finishes.

Back to you, the Headmaster walks up to you. "You must do something about this! this is your familiar afterall! you must discipli-"

You quickly cut him off. "He's not mine." You say, furrowing your brows slightly.

"Eh? It's not yours?" Crowley asks, takened back.

"Nope, never seen him." You simply say, lying through your teeth. 'Technically not in person..'

"You haven't?" He coughs. "Anyway, let's get it out the school at any rate. I won't turn you into stew, for I am gracious! Someone, help please." You don't wanna know what he meant by turning Grim into stew.

"Gyaaa! Let me go! I'm going.. I'm going to become the best mage!" His cries do not phase the students and headmaster as he gets thrown out, though it does shake your heart slightly.

'Oh well, he'll come back anyway.' You think, cheering yourself up.

Soon, at the headmaster's command, all the students follow their respective dormleaders to their dorm.

"Then, Y/n." Crowley turns to you, "I'm terribly sorry about this but, we must have you leave the school." He says.

"Those without any magic cannot be allowed to attend here." He explains, "Not to worry– the dark mirror will send you to where you've come from." He reassures.

"Just enter the gate and imagine your home clearly." He instructs and you do so.

"Oh, dark mirror! Guide this one back to the place where they belong!" The headmaster commands, and was responded with silence.

He tilts his head before trying again. "Once more. Oh dark mirror! guide thi-"

"It is nowhere." Says the dark mirror nonchalant, a smile tugs at your lips, yet you refrain from making any odd faces.

"Eh?" The headmaster seems confused.

The dark mirror begins to explain. "The place they belong is nowhere in this world..it does not exist."

"What did you say?! That is unbelievable!" Crowley shouts, before calming down. "Well, the unbelievable seems to be the theme today.."

The dark mirror just stays silent.

The headmaster turns to you. "This is the first time this happened since I've become the headmaster, where exactly do you come from?" He asks.

You answer him, telling him your hometown.

"I've never heard of this place. I have a general understanding of where all the students came from, but I've never even heard of that name." Crowley says. "Let's go do some research in the library. He suggests.

You follow after him out the venue, and to the library you go.

𓆩♡𓆪

Just as suspected, there was nothing in the library that even mentioned your hometown.

"Are you truly from where you say? You aren't hiding the truth, are you?" You just shake your head no.

"Looking at all this, you may have somehow been brought here from another planet..or another world." He suggests, you've already figured that out long ago.

"Do you have anything that can verify your identity? a drivers license or even a slipper?" Crowley asks, you rummage through your pockets.

"Nope, nothing on me." You answer, a bit disappointed. You could've checked your phone and told your friend everything that happened whether they believe it or not, or reread the story to prepare for whatever happens.

Well, you doubt the reception here will work, and you're pretty sure you've got every little detail of the story memorized in your head.

"This is concerning, I can't just let a magicless person stay at my school. However, as an educator. I can't toss a penniless teenager who has no means of contacting their guardians out on the street." He stays silent for a bit before smiling and saying his catchphrase. "For I am so gracious!"

Crowley thinks for a moment before speaking up again. "I know! There is an unused building on campus. It was once a dormitory in the past, if you can clean in up, you should be able to at least sleep there." He suggests, you get excited again. You can to live in the rusty, old, rat filled, dusty, disgusting, moldy, broken ramshackle dorm?! in your favorite novel?! amazing!

"For the time being, I shall allow you to stay there!" The headmaster interrupts your train of thoughts, "Then I will look for a way to return you home."

He rambles on for a bit on how gracious and amazing he is before leading you to the dirty dorm.

And there it is, the ramshackle dorm in all it's glory. You really hope this isn't some vivid dream.

"What a glorious place!" You say, with a hint of sarcasm in your tone.

"Right right, please come inside." The headmaster says, not picking up on your tone of voice and leads you inside.

The inside is worse, with speckles of dust flying everywhere, torn couches, and dirty floors. But you love it anyway.

"Staying here will at least keep you out of the rain." Crowley states. "I'm going to do more research, make yourself at home and please do not wander around the campus!" He warns before leaving you in the dark dorm.

You sigh, looking around the place. The game and novel doesn't show it, but the dust really does look like snow.

You walk to the window, gently pressing the palm of your hand against the glass.

Peeping through the stained glass, you see rain coming down, it's drops hit the ground with a splash you can hear through the barrier, and the wind howls loudly through the night.

You can see the campus nearby, and the lanterns glowing, lightening the cold and dark paths of ramshackle to the campus.

You feel the cool breeze come through the cracks of the walls, making you shiver slightly. "Why was I excited about this.." You mutter quietly.

It felt a little lonely as you sat down on the couch, still watching the rain. But the loud screech of a familiar beast was there to keep you company.

"Hyiii!! It's really coming down!" You turn, almost breaking your neck with how fast you snapped your head. Eyes widened as you look at the raccoon like beast.

"Gyahahaha! You shoud see the stupid look on your face!" Grim laughs, "It's like a bat being attacked by a water gun!" He snickers through his comparison.

"Sneaking back into the school again is easy-peasy for me, no sweat!" Grim brags. "If you think getting kicked out is gonna make me give up on getting in, you've got another thing coming!"

You stay quiet for a bit, sitting back down in the couch in a more comfortable position, bring your knees to your chest and allowing your head to rest on them. "Why do you wanna be in this school so badly?" You ask.

"That's simple!" Grim huffs as he begins to explain, "I'm a genius who is destined to become a great wizard! I've been waiting for the ebony carriage to pick me up..but.." The mood turns bitter and somber as Grim looks down in disappointment.

"But..hmph! the dark mirror has no eye for talent. So that's why I came here myself!" He speaks again, his moment of weakness quickly replaced by his cheerfull and haughty act.

"Not letting me in would be a loss for the world. Humans just don't get it." As Grim finishes his explanation, a rain drops through the cracks of the ceiling an onto his ears, making him flinch and screech.

"Nyaa! So cold! The ceiling is leaking!" He shivers, more water drips down again. "Fgyaaa! it keeps coming! my signature fire ears are gonna go out at this rate!"

You look at the ceiling calmly, and get up from your position. "I'm gonna look for buckets." You state.

Grim looks at you confusingly. "Why not use magic?" He asks curiously, before his eyes widen in realization and smirking smugly. "Oh! that's right, you can't use magic~" He taunts, laughing.

You just scoff at his weak attempt to piss you off and leave the room.

Walking through the foyer, you shiver slightly from the cold. Your socks dirty from the dusty floor and almost slip at one point from the small puddle caused by the leak.

The dark and broken halls of ramshackle makes you quiver, your heart quickens as you hear a noise. Before you can take another step, white cartoony figures appear before you.

"Hihihi..hihihi.." Their chuckles echoe loudly, you widen your eyes in surprise and fear.

"We haven't had a guest in such a long time.. I'm itching for some actiong! hihihihi....."

You calm as you realize who they are, the three ghosts of ramshackle! They were creepy at first, but you warmed up to them as the game and novel progressed.

You do have to fight them though, that's a shame. But it was easy in the game so..

'Oh..'

You don't know how to fight in real life..

'Oh crap.'