#so the appointment lasted like an extra hour cause we were just relating to each other

[hatchetsfield]

my head is covered in blue gunk that they used for all the wires & electrodes to do the sleep deprived EEG this morning and i both look and feel like i walked straight outta professor hidgens lab

[anxietysroomsupport]

Hypermobile anon here. First, thank you so much. It's just nice to know there's someone here for me. And to give a little more info, I have a serious problem where if I'm not currently in pain. I don't remember how bad it was. I know everybody does this, but my brain literally checked out as I was going to bed recently and I fell on the floor. I nearly forgot to tell my physical therapist.about it because it didn't really hurt. So, I can't do the pain scale very well, and I never remember (1/2)

(2/2) It just makes it sort of hard for pain relief when I don't know I'm going to need it and don't have the energy when I do. Also, on the vitamin subject, I know that I've had vitamin d issues before (bad heat exhaustion and allergy scares = going outside less), bad enough that I was close to being diagnosed with hypothyroidism. I'm not sure about the others, but I do know I'm not amazing healthy, so? I take calcium pills for the vitamin d, though. Again, thank you guys for all your help.

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We just got a bill from my PT place that says we owe money that we can't pay. They told us up front how much it would be with our insurance, and my mom's been paying each time, but it says we owe 177 dollars. Sure, it's not a lot, but we're not rich and trying to send a sibling to college. If we can't get this sorted out. I can't just not go. 10 exercises I can do at home and 5 appointments is not enough to help a chronic disorder. I cant focus and I have practice in 30 mins. -Hypermobility anon

Same day but later when I'm feeling a little better (my director was very supportive though so that's nice), I'd seen the letter and heard my parents talking a bit, but my mom told be as we got to school for rehearsal about PT. I got upset, and I felt bad because I could tell she felt bad because she didn't expect me to be upset, and in the heat of the moment I said "chronic illness" in front of my mom for the first time. She loudly (not quite yelling) (1/?) - Hypermobility anon

said to me "That is the most self-pitying thing I've ever heard. Chronic illnesses are like cancer". Sure, I probably should've said disorder and not illness, but I'm scientifically right. Then I said "It is, it's chronic pain, I am always in pain" and she said "Well then clearly PT isn't helping anyway" - I??? When I went in after 15 minutes after another girl, since we were both there for an hour and a half, I decided to stop trying too much to hide my crying (useful masks) (2/?) -HSD anon

since the other girl was in the hall to eat, and when I managed to explain to the director, she was understanding and nice, and when I said chronic, she said that I should never have to live with that, especially at my age. And when I mentioned not being able to sing at that moment from my crying, she pointed out how I was singing an empowering song that was about standing against the bad stuff in life, and I was perfect for it. I know my mom was just mad, but it just drained me.

Sorry I keep sending asks so often, I just feel like telling someone this. I decided to put 'zebra' in my bio. It's a thing that people with EDS and HSD sometimes like to call themselves. I like it, so even though I just have my name and pronouns, plus a random joke, in my bio, I added it. It just feels like a step in the right direction to remembering that I don't need google to tell me I'm dealing with this every 5 minutes. Accepting it, I guess. :) -HSD anon

.

My sleep schedule just keeps getting worse and I think it's my ADHD combined busy days and pain but I just never want to sleep anymore. I can't, I don't want to, and it hurts physically and mentally to just lie there and see if I can fall asleep. 80% sure my circadian rhythm changed to sleep at about 2 am but I get up at 7 and have a chronic disorder that's getting worse because of this I *need sleep*. And I'm so scared I'll mess up, want to make a side blog for it but want to make one (1/2)

for something happy first because I always figured that if I had side blogs they would be ask blogs or for fandoms or whatever. But I got a little better at not caring what other people think, so I haven't really needed one for fandom. But I looked through the tag and felt so comforted by some of the stuff that I just think it would help me. Maybe I'm just extra bad tonight because I went outside but also talked about it a fair amount with a friend I hadn't seen recently who didn't know. -HSD

.

I wanna talk to my physical therapist about hip braces because I tried a knee one we have and it honestly helps, but my hips are worst so I wanna see if it would help, but they're pretty expensive. It's hard to find dual hip braces, from what I've seen in my research, and even though one more than the other, both cause me issues. Idk, I'm conflicted, because it could help but is it worth all the effort? Also, even if it's under clothing it's still physical evidence (1/2) -HSD anon

(2/2) of my "invisible" disorder. Also, stopping exercises for a few days because of not feeling well from my covid shot reminded me of just how much time I spend on them, so it's another thing to deal with this. . . Idk, sometimes I just wonder if it would be better to just deal with it. I still have pain anyway, though it might be a little better. Less often, maybe? I don't really remember. It's not stressing at the front of my mind all the time, but the back of it. I'm just conflicted. -HSD

.

HSD anon here, idk if I mentioned it in an ask already, but recently I had a small breakdown because I was watching something where a character was in a car accident, as was trying to push through having trouble walking even with a hip brace. After a minute, I registered it and just thought "That could be my future". My joints had already been acting up and then they got worse, so I don't know if it was cause and effect? But I don't exactly know what to call it other than a trigger. (1/2)

Physical and emotional effect, at least I'm assuming on physical because I've had a bad reaction to something similar before, but like, I don't have trauma, I think it's more fear of the future. And I don't want to use trigger incorrectly, it's insensitive to those who actually have triggers. I'm just so confused.

Forgot to sign the last ask with 2/2 and HSD, whoops.

.

Hfnsiwk I'm not ready to walk into PT tomorrow and say that I don't think months of PT have been helping but I have no way to be completely sure because for all I know it's the weather since this is the first year I've known/it's been noticeable. Maybe it's just change, I don't know, but it just feels like such a waste of time if it really didn't help. Plus, I'd stop, and while that'd be great, I do enjoy being stronger, even if it didn't help pain. I have 12 hours and a bad pain day idek. -HSD

.

Hi Hypermobility Anon,

I think I found all your asks and got them in the correct order.  And found your last ask!

I’m so glad you kept writing in.  I think you should go ahead and make your side blog - you definitely have enough material for it.  Wanting to make a happy side blog also is a great goal to have, but if you don’t know what it will be yet, don’t let that prevent you from doing something you know you want to do and that will probably help you.  

You are dealing with So. Much.  Your mom especially sounds like she just is not ready to accept the situation.  It’s not self-pity to state your actual conditions.  It’s just reality.  

Forgetting about pain is normal, and really all you can do is try to write it down or make some kind of note about it in the moment or immediately after, so you can refer to it later.  Maybe you can track your pain events in your phone notes.

I think your idea to add “zebra” to your bio is a good one, this is part of your life and just something you have to deal with.  It sounds like you’re finding a community for this.  

Sleep schedules are tricky, and feeling like you desperately need to sleep can make it so stressful that it starts a vicious little cycle.  Some strategies to get around this are First, remember that just resting is okay and helpful too, even if you don’t fall asleep.  Letting your body lay there to rest is good for you.  

Second, if you’ve spent several minutes laying down without falling asleep, its okay to get up and walk around, or any small light exercise that’s comfortable for you.  The goal with this one is to get out of the bed for a bit.  It will help your brain to re-learn that the bed is for sleeping only, not for laying awake.  That association can help signal to your brain to start its sleep-process when you get into bed at night.

Third, it’s really common to have a changing circadian rhythm during your teens and twenties.  That’s just a thing that happens and you can’t do much about it, so just try not to worry too much.  Sleep when it feels right and when you can, instead of trying to force yourself to sleep when you’re “supposed” to.  

If hip braces would help you, you should definitely at least mention it to your physical therapist.  You might research online for any used ones as well.  A physical sign that you have pain can have good and bad consequences, but I think the good consequence of being in less pain far outweighs any others.

The triggering event you described is not so much a trigger as it is just a genuinely really upsetting situation.  You related really strongly to the character you were watching, because they’re dealing with similar problems to you, and to problems you could have in the future.  It’s a lot to process.  But while you could potentially be in a car accident, remember that television is made to dramatize events and probably made it seem a lot more difficult and scary than it really would be.   

Since we know you sometimes forget your pain, it’s safe to say that the exercises are helping you manage it, and you say that they’ve made you stronger in general.  Those are good things, and I would recommend you continue the exercises you can do on your own even if you end of ending  your physical therapy sessions.  We don’t know yet if your pain might have gotten even worse without therapy.  You’ll have to find that out on your own if you stop exercising, and then decide whether it’s more worth it to you to continue exercising or to live with the pain.  Whichever you choose, it’s Your choice, Your body.  Take care of yourself. <3

-bun

[danideservedbetter]

Alright so, here’s how things are gonna work.

First off, welcome to this side blog. Since it won’t be jolly fun fandom content and will be a little more personal I decided to separate my health and writing journey from my fandom stuff, although all my fandom content will still be linked on my main blog here.

(I write Izuocha/bnha content which isn’t super popular so if you’re not here for that then yeah, I don’t blame you. But if you are I have a link to our discord and community content pinned so def check it out if you’re interested.)

Secondly, you guys will hear details about stuff relating to my health like what kinds of things affect my disorder based on the tests some doctors are ordering, how I’m trying to improve my diet and activity, and routines and goals I’m attempting for myself. I am underweight, and that’s something I’m going to be talking a bit about, so if that’s triggering following this blog might not be the best thing for you. Details under the cut.

So, what kind of disorder do I have and why did I decide to make a health journey blog? My disorder is called idiopathic hypersomnia. Basically what that means is that when my disorder is acting up (based on factors like stress especially or my generalized anxiety rearing its ugly head) I have the capacity to sleep. And sleep and sleep and sleep and sleep. My longest recorded uninterrupted “sleep-attack” was 26 hours long and ever since I caught Covid in January, my body had been slowly growing weaker to the point I was starting to develop atrophy. I’ve had this ten years and my neurologist suspects inactive cells from mononucleosis I caught at 14 was the cause, because other IH patients have linked their sleeping problems to a case of mono or have had it at some point in their lives.

This disease stole many years and many things I’ve looked forward to from me. I lost friends and experiences and failed so many college classes I had to drop out.

I’ve decided I’m taking them back.

It’s not going to be easy. Just as it took ten years to convince myself that my tiredness was something I chose to give into, it took several extra years and many fights with my family to convince them that I had a real actual neurological disorder and that I need help sometimes. My parents and grandmother finally understand that I have to finish college and find a very special boss willing to work around my erratic progress on projects, but the outsiders they married are not as convinced. My grandmother’s husband kicked me out of their house because he wants to be the center of attention and doesn’t like that some days I’m so weak that I needed my grandmother’s help, and my father’s wife thinks I’m a lazy and ungrateful leech who “gets anxiety just being around” me. Both told my father I’ll never be happy so why even bother with me, but my dad is actually striving to understand his own recently-diagnosed PTSD so while we still butt heads he’s understanding that I have to take things day by day because every tiny circumstance affects my disorder.

Now, why did I decide to air all this out? Well, being open about my disorder and how it affects me has helped at least two people that I know of find out that the tiredness they experience isn’t the typical “American work force exhaustion” they were trained to believe is normal. So if I can help even one more, I’ll gladly talk about what this entails and how I deal with it day to day. Another reason is that I’m also one of those big advocates who believes talking candidly about mental health destigmatizes it and sharing ideas can help us grow as people and maybe make it a little easier to deal with.

So now that you know a little bit about me and my disorder, here are my big goals for the next three months provided my university takes pity on me and actually lets me go back.

First up: create routines to train my body to get used to living a full day fully awake. This includes waking up at the same time and going to sleep at the same time. It means getting dressed and going out and doing things, even little things— which I’ll get to in a sec.

Second: I write. I have a novel in limbo and I write fanfics. Writing is a big part of who I am and I’ve written one thing this year, which for a whole six-month stretch is upsetting and disappointing. Today is my reset. In the next 569 days I want to to finish the six stories I have in limbo (except the larger one) and finally reach my goal of posting 200k words in a single year. I wont be hard on myself if I can’t accomplish this because honestly finishing anything in the chaos of my life is going to be a miracle but. There ya go.

Third: go back to freakin college. I don’t care what it takes. Sit down with every official, every lawyer, and every professor it takes to get me back enrolled in classes in the fall.

Fourth: I have several smaller things I have to do, short term goals, stuff like that. I’m gonna create a to do list each day of small tasks I want to get done and while some of these things will be part of my daily routine I am throwing in like one or two things a day that just need to be done. My writing goal will change daily and I’ll keep y’all updated on that with every post I make.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. Dani! That’s so much!! Well, a few months ago I remembered hey!! I basically have a computer in my hand, why make it hard on myself. So I downloaded certain apps to help me out. This isn’t me saying “hey go subscribe to these apps because I said so” it’s just that through a lot of trial and error I’ve come to find that these certain apps work for me and I’ve yet to come across one that has the functionality of everything I need.

Tiimo — so this is an app I found developed by people with autism for people with autism to help them develop good habits and routines. It has preset daily schedules (things like morning routines or nightly routines or work routines) and an internal alarm to let you know when to move on to the next task. I myself have extremely low-level aspergers (to the point where my doctor won’t give me an official diagnosis because I didn’t want people think that *it’s* the reason I have issues with school), so moving from task to task can be difficult sometimes and I also deal with getting distracted. This widget also appears on my home screen so I know what I have to do at a glance. You can program in weekly and daily tasks to fully customize your schedule, which is fantastic for someone like me who wants to for example rotate chores. This is hopefully going to help me get my body in the habit of adjusting to routines and transitioning from one task to another, as well as getting important things done responsibly.

Promptly Journals — I’ve been told for a while that journaling is helpful mentally to kind of recenter yourself, so a bit ago I downloaded several journal apps to add to my morning routine. Now some will prefer more creatively free journals, but I prefer this one that gives me small prompts I can do in a short amount of time that just allows me to get my thoughts down. I can even add pictures at the bottom that go with the theme! I’m scared I’ll run out of prompts eventually lol but until then this app works very well for my needs.

Stretchingexercise — Now idk if it’s from lack of sleep from my disorder, the position I sleep in when I do sleep, all the physical labor I’ve had to do in the past couple weeks, my medicine, or w h a t but I suffer from body aches like no one would believe. I know stretching is supposed to help with that, so I downloaded this app to help me do non-demanding physical activity that wakes me up in the mornings and helps relieve pain so I don’t keep having to take pain relievers. This one has different plans for things like muscle tension, back pain, warm ups— and it also gives you rudimentary weight updates (I’m underweight lololol so we’re looking to fix that) or plan updates. It’s worked really well for me so far and gives you animations and descriptions of the workouts (some taken from yoga) as well as timed breaks and a narrated guide. It’s been pretty helpful in temporary relief and if nothing else gets my blood flowing in the mornings.

Widgetsmith Step counter — in addition to the stretching thing one thing my doctor and I discussed that helps with the sedentary lifestyle is simply walking. I’ve needed so bad to relieve my stamina and reverse the atrophy, and walks have been stellar for that. Now I live in the New Orleans area so humidity and heat force me to go at the crack of Dawn, but honestly my weenie dachshund Charlie really enjoys our time out so he goes with me! The CDC recommends 10,000 steps a day which seems like a lot and it is if you don’t get out much. But this gives me an excuse to get dressed and do the hygienic thing and help Charlie be healthy too, as well as give me time for brainstorming because we walk in a truly beautiful area. I’m sure everyone installed widgetsmith with the last iOS update (Apple users anyway) and while at first the step counter was just interesting I’ve since come to rely on it! We do our 5000 in the morning, which of course is half, and I find that other things I do throughout the day typically drive the counter higher. Anything leftover can easily be accomplished by an evening walk in our neighborhood. Now the caveat is that I have to remote have my phone in my pocket because I don’t own a watch or anything fancy lol, but honestly I need to keep it on me anyway so that serves as a good reminder.

Todoist — this one is my FAVORITE. Ever since I’ve decided that I have trouble keeping track of things I need to do and small stuff I need to keep in mind and appointments, etc, I decided to find a list app. This is the one I found that absolutely helps me for everything from my list of room supplies I need to buy, to my reading list, to general tasks I have coming up I need to complete. And its widget functionality keeps it right on my Home Screen! More organized individuals can just use tiimo, but I’m definitely not one of those individuals so this app is sorely needed and appreciated.

And of course, I know building habits the first few weeks is HARD. So for days my body doesn’t respond to my alarms, I have a checklist of the key things I have to do to keep my life as functional as possible.

So that’s that on that. I’m going to try to keep writing updates and my daily goals in a post in the morning, and reblog what I accomplished in the evening. It’s gonna be tough. But I’m thinking if I can start small I’ll be able to build my stamina enough to return to college and be successful when I do. I hope that anyone watching this journey draws some kind of meaning or inspiration from it. And you guys can even follow along if y’all want! Especially for writers or people trying to get healthier. I can’t promise what works for me will work for you (and honestly I expect things to change especially if I get accepted into college again) but hey, I figure it’s worth a shot.

I hope you guys enjoy watching this journey, if nothing else I hope it’s entertaining. And maybe it’ll be successful. I do know that I’m just gonna try for it, and hope it works out.

First daily update to follow

Xoxo

Dani

[duchessofostergotlands]

Hi, jess! A couple of months ago I sent you an ask about a reality tv show (the farm) and a participant who has bpd (she didn’t win the 1 million price, btw - but she was so happy when she found out that a good portion of the public supported her, specially women ❤️ she’s famous because of only fans and most of her followers on social media, before her participation on the show, were men. So she said she was happy to see so many women supporting and following her now). Anyway while watching the show, I realized many of her behaviors were so similar to mine. Then my mom and sister, who live with me, told me they noticed that too. I decided to ask my psychiatrist and psychologist (I’ve been dealing with depression for the past 10 years), but both didn’t give it much credit. At the time I agreed with them - they said I probably don’t have bpd because the behaviors I was describing only happens when I’m home, with people I trust. I’m very “controlled” when I’m with other people, including my dad (who hasn’t lived with me since I was a kid). The point is, I’m ALWAYS making a huge effort trying to control myself in public - it’s exhausting and I believe it’s one of the reasons I tend to isolate myself. I think I’ve actually learned to camouflage my feelings and to avoid things that trigger me. I used to be more “uncontrolled” as a kid, before I created this deep rooted fear that people’d leave me because of these behaviors and reactions. Do you think it’s possible to camouflage some of bpd’s symptoms? And, if so, do you have any tips on how I could talk to my psychiatrist and psychologist about it? —— I didn’t want to make this ask any longer than it already is, but one of my childhood friends was recently diagnosed with autism. We don’t talk much nowadays, but she messaged me last month to tell me about her diagnosis and to ask if I felt I had some of the same treats - thinking retrospectively, we were very alike. It made a lot of sense and I remembered you said sth about bpd and autism sharing some similarities in some aspects of how the brain works. She also told me about recent studies showing the underreported diagnosis in women. My psychiatrist and psychologist also dismissed it, because I don’t avoid eye contact and have friends. I’m really confused right now, but it’s also kinda relieving to get to know myself a bit more and to think that the struggle I’ve felt my whole life is real. (Sorry for the long text!)

Hey :) Sorry it’s taken me so long to get back to you. Just like to be able to dedicate a bit of time to longer messages like this and I rarely have the attention span for it! But of course I remember the conversation, it was really interesting to hear about what the contestant went through. 

So yes, BPD and autism are often misdiagnosed as each other as there are similar traits that are often found. Usually around attractions to patterns and structure and also around empathy. Like I don’t generally feel empathy for people in the same way most people do. I’d say unless you’re a close friend or family member - or maybe if you’re a child - I probably wouldn’t feel empathy towards you. I generally make decisions about moral standpoints and such based on what logically makes sense to me rather than any kind of emotional connection because I just don’t really feel that. I think the reasons autistic people may sometimes struggle with empathy are different but to an external person would seem very similar so can often be confused. 

To address your two points that made you unsure about the diagnoses, BPD is definitely highly interpersonal so it can change drastically depending on who you’re with. I can be friends with someone for quite a while and they have no idea but if I’m in a romantic or physical relationship with someone they’ll know within a few days. Romantic relationships are my personal trigger so they’re where I struggle the most. Then in terms of autism, lack of eye contact doesn’t really mean anything. I think that’s a common misconception people have but two of my cousins are autistic and they were both very outgoing and friendly, they were incredibly tactile, I didn’t notice them not looking me in the eye but I probably don’t look people in the eye much because that feels weird haha. Women in particular are not well studied when it comes to autism as you kind of mentioned. They are generally better at “masking” and so are often misdiagnosed or their condition isn’t picked up until well into adulthood. So even if you have friends and can look people in the eye it wouldn’t necessarily mean you wouldn’t fit the criteria. 

I wouldn’t want to diagnose you with anything myself as I’m not a professional and I don’t know you personally. The DSM outlines the criteria for being diagnosed with BPD. You have to demonstrate at least five of the following and as with all mental illnesses they have to cause a significant impact on your ability to carry out your responsibilities and go through daily life:

Chronic feelings of emptiness

Emotional instability in reaction to day-to-day events (e.g., intense episodic sadness, irritability, or anxiety usually lasting a few hours and only rarely more than a few days)

Frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment

Identity disturbance with markedly or persistently unstable self-image or sense of self

Impulsive behavior in at least two areas that are potentially self-damaging (e.g., spending, sex, substance abuse, reckless driving, binge eating)

Inappropriate, intense anger or difficulty controlling anger (e.g., frequent displays of temper, constant anger, recurrent physical fights)

Pattern of unstable and intense interpersonal relationships characterized by extremes between idealization and devaluation (also known as "splitting")

Recurrent suicidal behavior, gestures, or threats, or self-harming behavior

Transient, stress-related paranoid ideation or severe dissociative symptoms.

Those are the criteria that would most likely be used to assess you. In the UK we can be diagnosed with depression and anxiety by a GP but have to go to a psychiatrist or psychologist to get a PD diagnosis. It sounds like you’ve already been in contact with them. I’m not too sure how it works where you are. Can you get a second opinion? Are there other doctors you could make an appointment with? Could you go private? I’m very aware of the fact that having the NHS in the UK means that my experiences are not applicable to everyone’s circumstances but for me when I first went to get help I was given meds and a depression and anxiety diagnosis and sent on my way. When that didn’t help I went back and got a higher dosage. And then it still didn’t help and finally I was kind of at rock bottom (or I thought so at the time) and needed help and so what I did on that occasion was have a friend accompany me into the room. They had created a list of things they’d seen me do or heard about me doing that were concerning to them and gave them to the doctor, and they kind of backed me up and gave me moral support. It shouldn’t have taken someone else being in the room for me to be taken seriously but having someone there who could express what I might have been too shy or self conscious to say was really helpful. In the end I got referred for treatment and it wasn’t right for me ultimately as my problems were more complex but it helped for a bit. I don’t know if there’s anyone in your life you trust to be able to be there to support you but I think it can be really intimidating to push back with doctors and professionals and having someone there who knows you and cares about you can be the thing that gives you that extra bit of courage you need. 

I’m not sure how helpful that is but I’m available if you want to ask me any questions about BPD or any explanations of how I experience the symptoms or anything like that :) 

[boogiewrites]

No. 9:”The Body.”

Chapter Four

Characters: Diego Hargreeves & OFC Eve Corpuz

Summary:  Eve feels the pressure of learning about her powers and takes steps to do that when Diego takes too long to respond. She ends up meeting him again, by chance or fate, and they begin to realize that they have more in common than they thought.

Warnings/Tags: Light descriptions of fighting. Flirting. Bonding.Little bit of Luther.

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT! If you’d like added to the tags, just let me know. This is a multi-chapter fic.

Eve sits in the on-call suite with an ice pack on the back on her neck. She’d begun seeing how her power worked while she was at her job. She found it harder, the more she practiced the more drained she became. Being the overachiever she was, she’d passed out cold and gave everyone a good scare. She knew the cause but she couldn’t really say that so she’d had every remedy thrown at her and told to rest. So here she was with an energy drink in one hand and her phone in the other. She just had a few hours, she could make it. But she knew there would be more days like this if she didn’t take some time to figure things out.

As on-brand as ever, Diego had not texted her since the initial number text. She sighed and begrudgingly sent him a message first.

“I’m going to see if I can get my hours lowered. Whenever you can, we need to figure something out. I need to learn how to deal with this before I hurt myself.”

Her impatience for a response led her to take plans into her own hands. She made a few stops before she went home, to her community center to see where her defense instructor suggested she could go for some more intense training.

She settled in for the evening, making it easy on herself. She could probably get some decent info from a good google search on the Hargreeves. What? She was by nature a researcher and this was as close to a book on powers she was going to get. She had a personal training appointment with a new gym on the calendar for her next free day. With a plan in place, she felt better. For now anyway.

————————-

The response of “alright let me know.” Seemed underwhelming but at least it wasn’t only one letter. He’d sent it at 2:37 AM. What kind of sleep schedule was this guy on?

She’d been approved for fewer hours, not by much. But when you throw out the words ’work-related mental episode’ they tend to listen. She'd taken the first few checks she’d received and as she had never done before, she treated herself to new workout gear.

She figured she needed to learn to fight. If Diego, well, the whole family, did it and she was one of them... it made sense. If the wrong person found out about her, she could potentially be in danger, and she was not one that liked to be ill-prepared. Since she didn’t think he was moving fast enough with suggestions for what to do now, she’d found a quaint old gym upon the suggestion of her self defense teacher.

“They’re very good at what they do but they’re a little rough around the edges. Ask for the big guy, he’s the nicest, the other brother is a dick.”

She was always down to support family-owned small businesses and if they were good then what is some poor bedside manner when she dealt with people spitting on her for saving their life. This is should be nothing.

Good thing she had such an attitude because she’d far overestimated how good of shape she was it when she got winded from the warm-up. She was certainly getting her money’s worth. Extra fees to be seen at a late hour due to her weird work hours, but once she said she was a doctor the polite man on the other end of the line was very accommodating. That polite man turned out to be one of the biggest men she had ever seen. She thought it curious but didn’t want to be rude and assume he was the Luther she suspected he was. Luther sounded like a name any big guy could be called. This guy could just be super jacked on steroids and injectibles. As long as he was a good trainer she didn’t care. And so far he was giving her the most polite ass-kicking she’d ever received.

This night was an introduction to the gym, consultation, and free training session. She was sweating and focused as Luther went over the importance of safety in form.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I am a little bigger than you.” He laughs and she can see it’s a joke he’s used many times before. “Usually my brother helps in this part, he’s… a lot smaller than me. Not a lot he’s not tiny or something he’s… people-sized he’s normal...human man height. So learning with someone closer to your size is better than-“

“I think she gets it, big guy.” She hears a familiar voice coming down the stairs from the offices and apartment.

“Oh! I didn’t know you’d be in tonight.” Luther says with relief.

“Yeah, plans didn’t play out.” As oddly enough, his plans stood right in his gym.

“Eve here is getting her first session in late, she’s a doctor so… weird hours.” As soon as she saw Diego she knew he was the dick brother she'd been warned about. Checked out.

“Who’s stalking who now Doc?” He asks with a smile and a cocky suaveness he carried himself with.

“I didn’t know this was your gym.” She says a roll of her eyes.

“Oh you... know each other?”

“Yeah,” Diego asks without looking to Luther. “We at my part yet?” He asks with a raise of his brow.

“Yeah left it for last.”

“I got her from here.” He says giving him a casual hand of dismissal.

“Oh, you sure? I’ve got her forms filled out-“

“Yeah, I’m sure. Don’t worry about em. Head on out, I’ll close up.”

“You sure?”

“If you ask me that one more time I’m going to demonstrate on this dummy,” he pokes his chest, “instead of these other ones.” He knocks his head to the side of the room where the standing targets were lined up.

“Yep.” A gives a close-lipped smile and a nod. “Nice meeting you Eve, he’ll schedule you for the next one, kay?”

“No problem.” She gives him a warm smile and a nod in return to answer any doubts he might have about leaving her with him.

So Diego kicked off his boots as Luther wobbled around to lock the doors and turn off the lights. With half the room lit now, they stood face to face and sized each other up a moment. “You really didn’t know?” He asks after he hears the click of Luther being out of earshot.

“I swear. I asked my self-defense teacher and they recommended this place. Said you were good at training people to fight so…” she shrugs and offers her hands up.

“We are. I am.” He smiles proudly. “Why are you wanting to fight?” He asked with squinted eyes. She could tell he hadn't expected it.

“Well.. you do. I mean all…the people with powers do. I thought it’d be smart if I could really defend myself if I needed to. In case something goes wrong and... like... I get found and people wanna kill me.” she gives a weak shrug of explanation

He considers it a second. “Yeah, you just didn’t strike me as the type.”

“Why? You knew I took classes you stalker.” she taunts him.

“Well I had to know if you were legit before I came at you didn’t I?”

“And I you.” she quickly quips back.

“See. We have an understanding.” He passes his hand back and forth. “So… fighting huh? What you into? Judo? Jujitsu? Some boxing?”

“Everything.” She says with a self-assured nod and he lets out a dry laugh.

“Everything?” a cocky laugh that came from decades of experience busted out and stayed on his face in the form of a grin for awhile after.

“I wanna be good. I wanna be strong. I wanna win. Or not die and be maimed at least…. So whatever that takes is what I want to do.”

He could see a conviction in her eyes, she meant it. He was inspired for a moment by the rawness she gave so openly. The honesty was refreshing. “Then let’s do some conditioning. Start there and we’ll start discussing styles. Sound good?”

“Yeah.” She offers a supportive nod.

“Then drop and give me 50.” He grins.

She’d never sweat so much in her life. He put on music and had her do every cardio move she could have ever imagined. She left the desire to stay looking nice long ago once the hair started to stick to her forehead. She took everything he gave, and he was once again impressed. She’d yell out when she was trying to push herself and he'd clap and yell right back. She’d crack a smile when he told her to let it out and scream at him. So she did and she collapsed with her last burpee onto the mat. He pulls her up and gives her cheek a good supportive smack as she glares at him playfully.

“Ya did good, kid.” He pats her arm supportively. “Next time we’ll work on some moves too.”

“Good because I really want to hit you after that.”

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

“You’ve not been out for weeks, what’s been your deal?” One of Eve's friends she worked with, Molly asked. Her face always had a glint of sarcasm in her eye and a brow that never twitched. “I’ve had to work with Sean so much it’s been a pain in the ass.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I’ve just been… busy… going through some weird stuff right now and needed more time for myself. I’ve considered a career change anyway.”

“You what? You aren’t leaving me you bitch.” She says playfully but she means it. “Don’t leave me with those doctor dicks.”

“I’m one of those doctor dicks y’know.” She laughs.

“Nah you’re just a dick.” She grins and taps her glass to her friends. “I’m never very good at being sugar-coated but I'm here if you need to talk about it.”

“Uh...not yet. I’m okay, not sick or anything. Just had some stuff from my past kinda...come up.”

“Ah. The middle of fucking nowhere coming back to haunt you?”

“Yeah, I guess. Some big feelings and stuff came up with...in therapy.” She tries to cover and explain.

“Ah. I get it. It’s dirty work.” She gives a supportive nod. “But for real if you’re leaving let me know where so I can transfer too.” She smiles and knocks the bar to order another round of drinks.

“I need to get out though, just of the hospital and my apartment...so thanks for still asking.”

“No one else we work with is any fun. They don’t wanna go to loud shows they wanna go try out some overpriced bullshit Gastro-pub- whatever the fuck that is- and I’m just...it’s not me.”

“So I’m your only single friend in other words?” She chuckles.

“Nah I actually like having you around, don’t tell anyone that though.” She knocks her arm.

“What about people outside of work?”

“Eh. We have such fucked hours it’s hard to keep in touch.”

“Yeah.” Eve murmurs. “Making friends when you’re old is hard.”

“We sound like two old married birds bitching to each other.” She slides the new drinks their way.

“Here's to acting like we’re much younger women.” They clink glasses.

“Were you much of a slut when you were younger?” Molly asks after looking over the crowded basement of the bar. A small stage shoved in the back corner and the small doorways connecting the string along rooms made the space feel even smaller than it was.

The sudden question makes Eve laugh and almost choke on her drink. “I’ve had my moments.” She shrugs.

“Because there’s this fella that’s been looking at us for a while now and -don’t fucking turn-Christ-“ she laughs and smacks Eve’s knee. “No wonder you're single.” She rolls her eyes. “And if you happened to have been a slut, and in the spirit of our toast wanted to act like your younger self I think you might have a chance tonight.”

“Someones? Looking at me? Are you sure they just don’t want to kill me?”

“Nah, he’s been playing it cool.” She narrows her eyes in the way of the guy. “Here’s what we're gonna do. I’m gonna go to the bathroom, maybe take my own little stroll around this place and see what I’ve got options wise. And we’ll give this handsome stranger a window to come talk to you. I’ll be checking my phone if you need saving.”

“You don’t have to-“

“Hush. When’s the last time you got some?”

Eve opens her mouth then shuts it, defeated with the answer.

“That’s what I thought.” Molly teases. “So tits up and hopefully we won’t see each other until work Hmm?” She pats Eve's shoulder and quickly blends into the crowd of moving bodies.

She began scanning the room. She didn’t have to wait long to find out. She saw him smoothly moving through the crowd, in all black, and not a harness or knife in sight. The moves she’d seen at training with him were reflected in the way he moved, a bit like he was stalking but he hadn’t met her eyes again yet.

He was hurriedly doing a habitual perimeter scan as he moved across the room towards her.

She sat smugly, letting him come to her, feeling as if she finally had the upper hand. They meet eyes and an almost shy but endearing smile was matched and shared between them.

“Who’s stalking who now?” She says as he gets within earshot. “Just so you know it’s always been you stalking me.”

He gives her an easy smile and slides onto the stool next to her. “I knew you’d say that.” He shakes his head. “But I’m actually not here for you tonight.”

“I suppose it was a bit pompous of me to assume.”

“Not with how weird our lives are.” He shares the casual and almost comfortable air between them now.

The training had led to the banishment of that awkward physical barrier between them rather quickly. There wasn’t as much room for chit chat at training so the actual sharing of oneself, something neither were particularly skilled at, was still trying to break through that awkward stage. Luckily they were both practiced in faking it until you made it.

“How do I know you aren’t following me?” He teases

“How would I know where you’d be? I’m not the super boy detective here.”

“Funny” he answers flatly with a raised brow before waving to order a drink. “Then why are you here?”

“My friend wanted me to go out. I had been so preoccupied with… well… y’know all this going on now that I’d been neglecting what little social life I had. So I was due for a night to just see a show and chill but...you had to show up.” She jabs back with a warm smile.

“Lucky for you I’m not here for work.” He says almost proudly as if he were proving something to her. “I have a friend in the band and wanted to have a “chill night” too. But here you are.”

“Can’t get away from me.” She beams cheekily.

“You want another drink?” He offers with a nod towards her empty glass where the ice was starting to clink as she involuntarily moved it while she spoke.

“Oh. Guess I finished it.” She laughs at herself, a short sigh before rubbing a hand through her hair. “Yeah. Why not. Fuck it.”

“What’d you have? Virgin Shirley temple?”

“Oh, he’s got jokes.” She rolls her eyes. “Give me a… Horsefeather.”

The bartender grins. “Alright, Dorothy.” Before slipping away.

“What the hell is a Horsefeather?”

“The drink of my people.” She says as if he should know.

“Are you like a...native American or something?” He asks earnestly.

She laughs and pats his arm. “Be thankful you’ve got your looks hun.” He gives a smile before looking down and trying to figure if he wants to react to the insult or the praise. “No. It’s a Kansas thing.”

“You’re from Kansas?”

She nods and hands the empty glass off to a rapidly clearing and clearly overworked girl behind the bar. “Yeah. Basically.”

“You don’t look like you’re from Kansas.” he narrows his eyes.

“What is that supposed to mean?” She doesn’t feel any hostility from him, as she’d learned he often spoke without thinking.

“You’re not...y’know...White. Wait. Are you?”

She lets out a louder laugh and he enjoys the sound of it. “Honestly Diego, I don’t know. No one ever told me. I don’t think Corpuz sounds white but what do I know?”

“You kinda look Asian.” He muses out loud.

“Stop before you get racist bro.” She warns playfully with a pointed finger. “And what? Asians can’t be from Kansas?”

He pauses and considers it. “You right.” He answers quietly with darting eyes that showed him piecing his newly formed opinion together.

She sees the lull in the conversation coming as he gets distracted. His round dark eyes were still blinking in thought under straight brows that were furrowed in the middle, currently concentrated. The beginnings of a beard, a heavy five o clock shadow covered the lower parts of his face but his lips that she regrettably had noticed were full and soft weren’t hidden from its length yet. A rub of his chin and a scratch through his almost fluffy short hair distracted her as his long and lean hands fidgeted with themselves. She was used to seeing his hair damp and flopped over his forehead from training. Tonight it was dry and styled up, same for his choice of clothes. Just long enough to cover his scalp but not long enough yet to look messy. He was always in black, which she respected as a fashion choice. Although for New York it wasn’t very abnormal as a color of choice.

Eve quickly turns the conversation back to distract him from his self-reflection. “Did you come with anyone tonight? You give off that lone wolf vibe and I don’t think your brother is small enough to even fit through the door.”

His face transforms back to it’s easy-going politeness as it does when he’s with her. “Yeah, I’m alone. Just wanted to not be a shitty friend and try to be supportive by coming to watch them tonight.”

“That’s very nice of you.” She praises. “I was guilt-tripped too.” They both share a small laugh.

“Well, I’m glad we both got guilt-tripped then.” A warm tone she could feel more than hear as he slid her drink her way. “How’s your… y’know...stuff going?” he offers as he wasn’t entirely sure how to conduct himself outside of their usual healing or training.

“It’s…” she sighs and wrinkles her nose. “Going?” she shrugs and presses her lips. “I don’t really want to talk about it tonight if that’s alright. I came out to just be normal for a night. And get back to being… whatever tomorrow.”

He nods supportively. “You wanna go grab this booth and just... be normal? No super shit tonight?”

“I would fucking LOVE that.”

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

Molly, the greatest wingman, stalks the bar and circles, keeping an eye on her friend who was rustier than her when it came to picking up anyone. Besides being busy, which she most certainly was, Molly was lost as to why Eve didn’t have someone. She was attractive and smart and kind. Eve was straightforward forward and most of the time that didn’t ring well with men. Eve also got into her own head too much, preoccupied with the thought of messing up, anxious that someone would take one look at her and deem her not worthy and she’d get fired and lose everything she’d worked so hard for. Perhaps her fear of being vulnerable kept her from branching out. She had a lot going for her but didn’t really see it for herself. She’d spent so long being focused on her education and career, proving herself now against the past she had on paper that she was in fact good enough. Imposter syndrome is a real bitch. Not to mention being a woman, and a minority on top of that. Or at least she assumed she was, her mother was and none of the super-powered people knew who their father was. It was enough to be a woman in the medical world, but being one with slight monolids and an ambiguous face and skin color made it even harder. If she was professional, her face was read as cold and bitchy. A strong jawline and not super soft and feminine features made her unable to pull off the damsel in distress routine to slip under the radar unassumingly with her male colleagues. She’d had a terrible upbringing, rough and wild adolescence and now was trying to find her place in the midst of having powers and navigating adult life.

But Diego understood all that. He was the only person she’d ever met that could even possibly begin to understand what she felt. So as it does, shared trauma can create intensified bonds where other’s never existed before. So perhaps that’s why she felt so at ease as soon as she understood who, or what he was. It was almost as if a built-in trust came with his intense eyes and confident actions. Feasibly, that’s why they spent the majority of the night pressed shoulder to shoulder, shouting into each other ears from inches away in a booth, smashed together by the crowd of people around them. As the number of drinks rose, the inches between their bodies dropped.

They sat together as two ordinary people, sharing musical taste and stories of shows past. They drank and laughed and to anyone else they seemed like a cute couple on a date, sitting close with no show of awkwardness between them. After you’d had someone's head between your thighs, covered in both of your sweat and bruises from your grappling the previous day, sitting together seemed like nothing. And it also felt that way, effortless.

What surprised Eve the most about the night was how easy and fun it was. The conversation kept going despite the noise. There was even harmless flirting that she was realizing was a built-in thing with Diego. He was a professional, he was raised to be able to manipulate and know how to engage with people. But she never once felt like it was fake or forced. The crinkles in the corners of his eyes when she’d be inches from his ear and make him laugh led her to believe this was all genuine no matter how unreal the whole situation that brought them together felt.

“Thanks for getting me home,” she says with no slur but the warm buzz of alcohol being felt in her stomach and face.

“Can’t let anything happen to you now can I?”

“I”m trying to not let anything happen for myself….” her eyes go distant before fumbling with her keys. “Can we do some training that’s like… I wanna be able to hit, y’know?”

“You wanna do some boxing?”

“Yeah. I think I do.” she nods and roughly shuffles into her apartment. “I wanna hit you in the face.” she says seriously before they both snort and start laughing.

“Join the long line, honey.” he says with stretching arms. “I’ll find ya some gloves.” he nods in thought. “Tomorrow, if you’re able to anyway,” he smirks,” We’ll get started on learning what it feels like to take a hit.”

“I’m not that drunk.” she says with a wrinkled nose of playful defensiveness. “I’ll chug a pedialite and be fine.”

“Spoken like a true doctor.”

“Or a true alcoholic.”

“Too bad you can’t heal your own liver huh?” he teases.

“Maybe that’s what I'll work on next.” she says as she sighs, the tiredness setting in. “My brain training. Not the body.” she clarifies. “We’ll do punch kick beat em ups and I’ll try to heal the damage this stress is causing.”

“Punch kick beat em ups?”

“Shut up I'm drunk.” They both laugh and she reaches out to hug him. He didn’t expect it but he certainly didn’t deny it.

“Oh are you THAT drunk?” he smirks and looks down at her.

“You fuckin’ wish.” she snorts into his chest before pulling away. “We were...being like..normal for a minute. For tonight, I mean. I needed it, thanks. That was… the hug, why I hugged you... to thank you.”

“You’re starting to ramble now, go on and get in bed.” he turns her body and pushes her into the apartment. “You’re welcome. I had a good time too. It was nice to just…” he shrugs. “Not be me for a few hours.”

She nods and starts sitting her things on her counter. “I know what you mean.”

“That’s some depressing shit.” he stares at nothing in particular for a moment.

There’s a pause of reflection before they both laugh again. “At least we can bitch to each other?” she offers. “I’m glad you got stabbed Diego.” she chuckles.

“What the hell?” he laughs at her as she pats his arm.

“We wouldn’t have met otherwise ya idiot!” she shoves him back into the hallway lightly.

“Oh. I thought you were having some hella mood swings or somethin’.”

“Hella? This is New York son, not Cali.” she teases. “Get out of here before you say something else stupid and I decide I can’t be friends with you anymore.”

“That's the most solid and hurtful advice I’ve been given in a while.” he tips an invisible hat to her.

“I got plenty more!” she calls out to him as he leaves. “See you tomorrow!”

He raises a hand, a cute spin to face her, and walk backward. “Get some rest. I’m beatin’ your ass tomorrow.” he gave her a big smile that they both kept on their faces long after they were out of sight.

@s-h-e-w-r-i-t-e-s​ @jaegeeeeer​ @diegos-butt​ @anglovesthis​

[successfullyadhd]

im 31, and after over a decade of trying to figure out what is wrong with me, my therapist and I are finally thinking it’s ADHD. i’ve had a gut feeling about it for a while and every ADHD post is relatable. now the problem is finding an place that does adult assessments and is affordable (no insurance). do you have any tips on going through the assessment as an adult? and if i can’t afford it, and can’t get medication. how do i ever become the productive focused person i want to be? thanks.

Sorry in advance for the long post... I put the most relevant bits in bold for a TL;DR version.

 I know getting diagnosed as an adult can seem daunting, but you shouldn’t worry too much. While ADHD was once viewed as something that only affected children, it is now widely recognized as a lifelong disorder and you shouldn’t have to fear being dismissed because you weren’t diagnosed early in life. It’s extremely helpful that you have been seeing a therapist, and they also think you have ADHD. Ask them to send over their notes when you do go to the doctor.

As for how to get diagnosed - I’ll start by saying I hate the way American healthcare is set up, as medication and healthcare in general are expensive. I have to move frequently for me and my husband’s jobs (we both work in hospitality, and as the saying goes, “You have to move out to move up!”). Because most (all?) ADHD medications are a Schedule II drug (highly regulated but still legal), I have to get rediagnosed in every new state. I always bring my past history, but most doctors want to complete testing as they are monitored for prescribing stimulants and can lose their license if found to be providing this medication without ample documentation. (All of this to say - I have been through the procedure many times as an adult.) Depending on the state, some doctors also require bloodwork and an EKG to ensure you are healthy enough to receive the medication (although some will accept past test results if done recently enough.) Also depending on the state and doctor, they may have additional requirements. In Florida, my doctor wanted a multitude of tests, and asked for a sleep study to ensure the medication wasn’t causing poor sleep. In California, as part of the Kaiser HMO system, I was required to do periodic drug tests to ensure I wasn’t also using street drugs, and to check that the Adderall was in my system (as a test that I was using it as prescribed, and not selling it). Some states are much easier – Utah, Alabama and West Virginia all were able to diagnose me in one appointment and prescribed the medication same day. Last, a General Practitioner won’t typically prescribe it and will direct you to a psychiatrist. Even if you did have insurance, most don’t cover psychiatrists or if they do, it comes with a different deductible (because obviously mental health isn’t part of regular health (heavy sarcasm)). After diagnosing, you have to meet with the doctor once a month to get the prescription refilled – due to the Schedule II status, they can’t have it on an auto-refill like other medications and they need to ensure you aren’t abusing it or having negative side effects. (although the one good thing to come out of COVID is that it normalized tele-health appointments, since an in-person meeting with a doctor once a month can be difficult to schedule). Even though I have health insurance, I typically pay out of pocket $120 a month for my visit with the doctor, and after insurance and a coupon I pay $73 for two medications (Adderall & Vyvanse). I’m fortunate now to be able to afford that expense – at the times in my life where I couldn’t, I would request a 30 day supply of the more affordable pills and only take medication on days where I couldn’t function without it (such as doing large amounts of paperwork) and try to use learned behavior techniques the rest of the time, to stretch out my resources.

As far as what goes into the actual diagnosis – doctors most commonly use a questionnaire about your daily life to assess you. Here is a link to commonly-used questionnaires: https://www.additudemag.com/adhd-assessments-and-tests/.

I know I just made it seem very daunting to get diagnosed and on a medication, but I want to be honest with you about what the process looks like, and again, depending on where you live it can be done in one session. Now that is out of the way, let me give you some information that is more helpful:

If you can, skip asking a regular GP for a referral and make an appointment directly with a psychiatrist. This will save you the extra cost of the doctor’s appointment, just to be told someone else will help. Many places have low cost mental health centers and ADHD falls into that realm, so I would check out what is available in your city. Before making an appointment, confirm the following:

-          Do they diagnose ADHD?

-��         Do they prescribe medication? (Therapists don’t prescribe, only psychiatrists, and some will not prescribe ADHD medication at all so it’s important to be clear that it is your intention to receive medication if diagnosed)

-          What tests do they require for diagnosing, and prescribing medication? (Some places may have more or less requirements, and it can even vary within a city or state. This way you will know if it’s something you can afford at the time.)

Talk with the doctor about your specific situation, and what medications are affordable without insurance. Adderall, for example, is past the 10 year exclusive patent and now has a generic version available. It comes in quick release and slow release, depending on your needs. You can also talk to the doctor about a prescription to both quick and slow release, so you take the correct medicine based on your needs for that day (marathon work day? Slow release that extends over the entire day. Afternoon project – quick release that lasts for four hours). Vyvanse is great but doesn’t have a generic version and is insanely expensive without insurance (to the tune of $350+). Use the GoodRX app to find deals on medication without insurance (Adderall is about $15 for a month supply with this app). There are a ton of drug options so look up the pricing during the doctor’s visit, so you can confirm that you can afford what they prescribe. Also keep in mind that getting a prescription filled is the same cost whether you get 1 pill or 30 (a fact I learned the hard way when getting a 10 pill prescription filled once.)

 If you read all that and thought, Thanks but no thanks, here are some other options:

-          My psychiatrist in Florida recommended that I take Rhodiola Rosea supplements in addition to medication, as it has clinically proven positive effects on ADHD symptom control. I found it on Amazon. Omega-3 fatty acid supplements are also proven effective.

-          If you’re interested in this sort of thing, here is a super comprehensive study of various dietary supplements and behavior modifications that work or don’t work for ADHD: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4968082/

-          Practicing meditation is a great way to relax your body (increased stress, while helpful for short-term tasks, can make ADHD symptoms worse long term) and train your mind to hold onto singular, important thoughts (people’s names, why you walked into the kitchen, etc). I use the Waking Up app and love it – there are also many free options in the App Store and on YouTube.

-          Regular exercise is another great way to manage ADHD symptoms, as it gives your body a natural serotonin and dopamine boost, two important chemicals your body has trouble producing and absorbing naturally.

-          Caffeine is a great, easily accessible stimulant that has a focusing and calming effect on ADHD individuals. My doctor actually asked my parents to give me coffee each morning before school when I was a child, before we moved onto prescriptions.

-          Often, there are other factors that go along with ADHD, such as anxiety and/or depression. Getting this under control can go a long way in managing ADHD as well. I’m not sure if you have any issues with those, but it can be helpful to treat both if you do. The medication Wellbutrin is used to treat depression and also has mild stimulants, which would be helpful for both conditions. It isn’t a Schedule II drug, so you can probably ask your doctor for a 3 or 6 month prescription.

-          There are a ton more mind hacks and learned behavioral mechanisms you can try – read some of my other posts for suggestions.

Of course, I have to give the legal disclaimer – all of this is based on my personal experience, I’m not licensed in the medical field in any way and only a doctor can give you proper advice for your body and situation, and what medications will be most helpful. 😊

[soranihimawari]

are you serious?

estranged friends to lovers featuring this lovely dude ^ and thanks to some meddling from both sides of their lives, miya atsumu finds out that maybe he should date you. after all, what are you going to do once msby guys see you on the evening news when you make the cut to be the vice captain of the ladies beach vbc olympic team?

warnings: none yet, so sfw for now ;]

+ note: will make this a weekly series if i get enough notes eventually

tagging: @m0nstergeneration20xx​

is it serious? --osamu

[[1 new photo]]

those three words illuminate underneath the backlight of his phone screen. the blips play at the strings of his heart. the run-in at the gym was completely by accident and truthfully you weren’t expecting the glow up fairy to fuck with both of your perceptions of the other. both of your posture changes from confusion to flirtatious the moment his eyes illuminate with the recognition.

“who’s your friend atsumu-san?” 

you divert your attention to the rest of the rookie teammates while you nod your head acknowledging the oncoming arrival of the other members of the MSBY team. you rapidly exchange greetings and names in an efficient manner. 

“i should go. seems like you want to celebrate,” your tone is honey incarnate causing even the ones under the medi-masks to absorb your warmth. “see ya miya-chan.”

when you wave over your shoulder, you shake your head wondering if your heartbeat would stop nervously beating out of rhythm because you caught yourself walking away from the afterglow. 

at the restaurant the lads usually buy dinner after another successful victory, the topic of conversation circles back around again to the mystery stranger who had a connection with their starting setter. the team dinner was an idea that everyone including meian thought would be good to have at least once (or twice) a month. 

“she’s an old friend,” he bashfully admits. 

“that makes you look like a lovesick war hero?” their libero busts his pride a little.

“it’s nothing like that,” bokuto defends, “right?”

miya shrugs and their captain pieces the information together for the rest of the team after being there many times himself before he had settled down with his lady.

“she was your almost,” meian states matter of factly. their ears perk up including atsumu who just stared at his captain registering the word in his head. 

“you two seemed pretty close when we arrived,” meian continues. “call it a hunch, but you shouldn’t throw away fate’s design ‘tsum.”

the television in the restaurant moves on to it’s countdown for the upcoming olympics. it creates a certain ambiance of familiarity at the family style restaurant which the team are frequent customers.

“and in other news, seems like the women’s beach volleyball roster has officially been announced,” the anchor says. there is a wide angle shot of the beach courts on the coast of Okinawa.

“Holy shit,” bokuto says and it’s the only time meian allows his team to use such language at their dinner. your sporadic movements on the sand court makes for insane sets for your teammates on the court. 

“their young vice captain makes her presence known as her teammate sets the ball to ‘the missile,’ and wow! a clean pipe that proves why the name stuck in the underground leagues. and you can catch up with the rest of the beach volleyball team when the summer games begin next month. now back to you guys in the studio!”

“fuck me, she’s probably more dangerous than omi-san,” meian says finally. atsumu just scoffs at the compliment because he knew there were other monsters in the world, but none that made him more nervous than you. 

...

“are you for real?” your roommate exclaims. you tell her about the run-in on the street and she flips. you could of told her you saw the Almighty and she would have an easier time believing that.

“did you at least get his contact info?”

“no! of course not,” you answer with a strained voice. “besides, he hears the banter of his fans everyday, so what difference does it make if he has my number or vice versa.”

“because those compliments came from the vice captain of team japan women’s beach volleyball?”

you laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. after all, you were also watching the news story that was filmed last week tonight with her on the couch. in your wine glasses, you both share the last bit of blueberry powerade because you wanted to be sober in case you’d have to talk to the boy who christened you with the nickname one fall evening in hyogo. sure you were first years, but the bitterness of rivals with clashing styles on the court proved to be a little challenging especially since your schools respectfully had their golden week of training at the same resort.

“your phone is going to start ringing soon,” your friend shares a laugh with you. and usually she’s not wrong, but then again, her closest ally was sitting with her telling her the story of the nickname. the familiar chime of your phone going off caused her to only laugh harder before she watches you scramble to answer.

you shut your door the moment she yells, “no fucking between nine a.m. and five p.m.!”

clearly the other person on the line starts laughing hearing the voice clear as day before he clears his throat. atsumu is finally in the comfort of his own home in his side of the city. he asked his seniors if anyone had a way to contact you, so you were surprised the social media team readily gave him the phone number. funnily enough, it was the same one you had scribbled down on the back of an ice pop receipt.

“you didn’t change your contact number,” he states. 

“neither did you,” you said. a half rest of silence comes over you both, but he speaks first again. 

“i saw the news tonight with the team.”

“you guys have team dinners? that’s cute.”

you flirtatious remark didn’t go unnoticed, so atsumu decides to hit you with a genuine compliment. it’s the first thought that came to mind when you were younger due to the run in you had with each other at the bathhouse.

“you’re cute.”

“i’m sorry, i didn’t quite catch that miya-senshu. i think you called me cute?”

“i-i...ugh yeah.”

“pfft. if this is you flirting with me, i’d say you are doing a lot better than most of my flings.”

“listen, the guys are going to have my head if i don’t follow through with this, so will ya--”

“meet me at roppengi station at seven tomorrow morning. dress casual.”

there was something in the way you had asked atsumu out in a charming manner he wholeheartedly agrees. after your conversation wraps up, you go about your evening plans of talking with your roommate who is beyond thrilled to tease you about a long-overdue date. 

atsumu stares the at clock on his phone before turning on his side thanking his captain for giving him an extra day off from practice tomorrow. according to the way meian explains it simply to their athletic trainer was that their starting setter needed a personal day.

you meet at the appointed location after much deliberation of wearing and you often quote your roommate’s line of, “you need your best ‘professional’ revenge outfit babs.” now that you see what she means as you spot the athlete you bumped into yesterday: long sleeve mocha graphic shirt with the designer house logo stitched on paired with tapered casual friday pants. you on the other hand, are a splash of dark academia styled clothing with sensible shoes.

“and here i thought about leaving you behind on my adventure,” you muse as atsumu gives you a once over. he was over analyzing your silhouette as the rust belt flecks in your eyes decide to taunt him. all his life, he had trouble not focusing on anything other than volleyball related (aside from school work and such), but now he had a transient lady friend look up at him like he was not the local playboy prince of the volleyball club.

“i’d bet good money you wouldn’t because no one would want to hear about me missing morning practice because of a covert date with ya,” he sees the way your eyes narrow a smidge. he knows this stare; he’s seen it before at the training camp because of someone making a snide remark about your financial situation at home. you lead him down the platform and when you board the standing room only train, you both stare at your reflection in the window. your stop is not longer than fifteen minutes away, but you allow atsumu to hold you steady with one hand on your waist and the other on the rail above him. you fill him in on the tour you’re planning to take him down to the shopping district where you know people would go about their days not realizing who they were (celebrity athletes).

“you two look good together, isn’t that right hue?” 

“thank you granny,” you said with a smile at the elderly woman who sits a few rows to your left. her husband nods with a funny smile. you really sell it with the way you place your hand over the one he has on your waist when the traini comes to a stop. 

you and atsumu, once you make it to the surface head into the east village where you see the local trattorias begin setting their outdoor seating arrangements and one of the servers stops you both asking if you’d like to part take in a taste testing for his family’s restaurant.

“senpai’s amazing,” the server says like it’s the easiest answer he ever had to say. “she paid for auntie’s medicine last time she visited here. you really are lucky to be on a date with her.”

after your orders are put in, atsumu decides for once to not be a complete jackass, somewhere sakusa runs into a butterfly and he chuckles to himself because it means someone was using their brain properly. and in the quiet hours of a local village fifteen minutes away by train, a miya twin is falling back in love with his date one minute at a time. 

“are you ok atsumu?” you ask as you pour some apple juice from the carafe into your glass. it was then you had your epiphany the moment he asks you if you’d like to visit his brother’s store on a dinner date before you head out for the taping of the opening ceremonies. 

“i’d like that,” you reply. “but let’s make it through this one first, mmk?”

“good because i couldn’t look you in the eye if ya said no star-chan.”

“star-chan?”

you lean back in your chair and tilt your head to the side in thought. your brows furrow together a bit confused by the nickname therefore atsumu enlightens you to the best compliment anyone had given you (in your young adult life):

“because i finally see what meian says when he says he loves the sunspot in his life,” he sheepishly admits. you can tell he was being sincere when you glance at the way he becomes more flustered when you encourage him to hold your gaze for a few seconds.

“seven out of ten,” you say with a rosey lilt in your tone. at this, your companion at the table leans in clearly annoyed with your score. “but given the fact that you’re here with me now at eight twenty on your day off, and the smoothness of that confession, you’re clearly a nine overall because i highly doubt you’re not going to let me go again, right?”

he nods. he finally replies to his message from earlier last week from his brother after taking a self-ca with you on the promenade before you head back to the train station around two in the afternoon.

yeah ‘samu. you could say i am.

[[1 new photo]]

[ngame989]

“Loon” - TGG SVTFOE Fanfic Collection Ch. 10

Writing: @ngame989​​​​

Art: @toxicpsychox​​​​

Editing: @ubercelloczar​​​​​, @toxicpsychox​​​​, @seddm​​​​

Alternate fic links - FFnet, AO3

Summary: While Marco, Tom, and Janna have a birthday bash in the Underworld, Star gets dragged into a standoff with an old foe on the surface. It's up to the Butterflies once more to defend the legacy Mewni will leave in the history books... or is it?

Comic Page

Masterpost

Out with a new chapter in record time, and more to come before Christmas! We plan to update either Sun-Fri-Tues on a 2 week cycle, or once per week if we’re particularly busy, so just keep an eye out. Something EXTRA special is lined up for next chapter courtesy of @ubercelloczar​​, still figuring out how best to include it but it’s going to be amazing. Hope you enjoy!

“...and the foul beast looked me right in the eye as I tore it limb from limb! It put up a spectacular fight, but it was no match in the end.”

Moon placed a hand on her husband’s arm and raised a stern eyebrow. “River, dear, we don’t need to hear the story of every meal you eat. I think it’s making Globgor uncomfortable.” Globgor raised a giant hand, waving it in a so-so motion, and Eclipsa rubbed his neck reassuringly.

“Really? But it was vegetarian! Ate it too quickly to know if it was chicken or turkey,” he quickly mumbled before resuming his usual boisterous shouting, “but it was fowl alright!” Moon could only sigh in response; some things would never change with him, but she supposed that was part of his charm. From their position on Globgor’s shoulder at his current size, she could see half the town at a glance. Though many Mewmans still went by the old names for the various smaller kingdoms, there was a general agreement to still call the whole merged area Echo Creek. She’d been against it until Marco pointed out that just calling the small area carved out by the seven kingdoms “Mewni” was as silly as the prospect of only labeling his modest town “Earth,” and she couldn’t argue that. Abandoning even the very name of the home she’d ruled for decades, and known for even longer, wasn’t her first solution, but perhaps it was fitting. As their destination came into focus, she was reminded that giving up the ways of old could be for the best.

The ruins of Butterfly Castle, untouched for the last year and a half, loomed before them. Globgor gave a signal and began to shrink, keeping his upper body large enough to support them until they were a safe distance from the ground. “Remind me to stretch before carrying three people again,” he said, huffing and puffing as he windmilled his arm.

Eclipsa giggled behind her hand and got on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, Globby.”

“Yes, thank you,” Moon warmly added. “We got here just in time for-”

A stout, older man in a blue uniform sprinted over to the group with a form in hand. He stopped to catch his breath for long enough that the four of them all had time to look around at each other in confusion. “Saw ya comin’ from a mile away but ya went to the other side of this here castle from what I was expectin’,” he wheezed. “Is one of you Butterfly?”

“Yes,” all four answered, much to the dismay of the man.

Moon got a closer look at the badge on his chest which read, “Police”. Ah, so he’s with the city. “Is this about the renovation clearance?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the officer drawled.

“That would be me, then. Are you the one performing the inspection of the premises?”

He shook his head. “No, ma’am, I was called by the inspector because there seems to be a bit of a mixup. A real noggin-scratcher, let me tell you. I can show you, if you’ll all just follow me.” River leaned over to Globgor and whispered something in his ear that made both snicker. Moon rolled her eyes and elbowed both before leading the others behind the policeman; though she normally found their shenanigans charming, today of all days was not the right time for nonsense..

Ever since magic had been destroyed, Moon had spent far too many hours idly dwelling on the next step of her life without feeling like she was taking meaningful action. Almost a year ago, on the eve of the newly christened Christumpmasday - a dreadful portmanteau, Moon thought, but at least the Stump itself had been no more - Star and Marco had first made her consider the legacy she wanted for the Butterfly Kingdom. Queen Moon the Undaunted might have focused on projecting its strength and valor to the world, but she was just Moon Butterfly now, and she was well aware of how many flaws it had always had - some of them her own doing. The people of Earthni deserved to get to know the history of magic and the seven kingdoms as it truly was, and the castle she’d always called home seemed like the perfect place to do that. But if she was going to do things the right way this time, she needed to go through the proper channels, and that’s what brought them here today.

“So officer,” Globgor asked as they continued around the base of the castle, “what exactly is the issue here?”

“Well, I just got here a minute before I saw ya coming in so I only got to take a quick look, Mr…”

“We’re all Butterflies.”

“Ah, yes.” He slowed down briefly and spoke to River and Globgor directly, eyeing them curiously. “Pardon my prying, but I wouldn’t have thought you two were, how do I put this… related?”

“Oh, heavens, no,” Eclipsa chuckled. “Moon and I are, um… well, it’s still quite complicated, but we’re the related ones. Our husbands took our names.” It took a moment to click why anything would’ve seemed odd, but Moon did recall hearing about Earth’s marriage customs (though they still felt foreign to her).

The officer scratched his head with both eyebrows raised. “Gosh, Mewni was like that? That’s awfully neat. Can’t go a day around this here town anymore without learning something new. Anywho, some lady showed up hootin’ and hollerin’ to the heavens about how whatever plans ya had for this place were a sham, I think, and she stormed past the inspector to keep anyone from entering. Made a real big fuss over it. We’ll see what we can do but I’m afraid I can’t let ya onto the premises if it puts you in any danger.”

“The inspector said this afternoon was the only opening she had for months,” Moon muttered, aghast.

“Awfully sorry, just doing my job, ma’am.” When their destination came into view, Moon spotted a woman with a hard hat and orange vest among the gawking crowd- the inspector, she recalled from her previous meetings. Though the expressions among those gathered varied from amused to unsettled, all pointed in the clear direction of the entryway to the castle.

“Who would even want to cause such a kerfuffle around this?” River asked, echoing Moon’s own thoughts. They’d kept it quiet, hadn’t they? Though her expertise in Earth government was limited, she was fairly certain this sort of thing wasn’t public. No one outside of the city officials they’d made contact with should have known… she’d simply submitted a letter with some information and set up an appointment with the receptionist, who surprisingly enough had turned out to be Manfred. Wait, when she’d last seen Manfred… Everything clicked in her mind just a moment before they came face to face with the answer to her unspoken question.

“Well, well, well... we meet again, monster smoocher.”

***

The telltale whoosh of the flame column signalled to Star that she had arrived at her destination. Hopping out of the carriage, she rounded the corner and bounded towards the front door of the Diaz house. She hadn’t thought Tom would be so into event planning, but Marco was going to love it. Even though they’d gotten into a nice rhythm managing work and school and free time with friends, a relaxing day off was just what the doctor ordered.

She was so distracted she didn’t even realize her foot was colliding with the door, kicking it open and revealing the Diaz living room. Marco was lounging on the couch in his hoodie and a pair of shorts; his only reaction to her sudden entrance was to nonchalantly move the TV remote and soda can out of the way, barely in time to catch her when she pounced on top of him.

“You’re getting better at that,” Star commented, propping herself up on her elbows to look Marco in the eye and bop his nose with hers.

“Have to be if I don’t want to have to scrub juice out of the couch all the time,” he retorted, rolling his eyes and pecking her on the lips. His fingers idly twirled her hair as she settled down into their usual couch cuddling position, her head resting on his chest. Happy, sad, angry, lonely… there was no situation that couldn’t be improved by a Marco hug. She sank into the warmth of his embrace and let the stress wash off of her for a few moments, sighing softly. “So, everything go OK with Janna?”

“Wha?” Pegasus feathers, Butterfly, did he find out?

“You said you were helping Janna with something?”

Right, that’s what she’d told him. “Yes, Janna! Totally, totally, totally… just helping Janna Banana with... girl stuff. And Janna stuff. You wouldn’t get it.”

“Not sure I’d want to.”

Having sufficiently recharged her snuggle battery, she hopped off the couch and bounced in place with excitement, helping him up as well. “Enough of that. You ready for one of the best days of the year?”

“Underworld Beach Day!” They both shouted.

Marco pounded a fist into his other hand with a determined grin on his face. “We’ve gotta find the Skellies for that volleyball rematch after last year. I know we can take them this time.”

“Yeah, Skellies…” She nodded along with a sly smile, knowing the true plans for today would be that much better.  

“Let me get my sunblock.”

“It’s underground, Marco!”

“The lava glow can still mess with my pores!” he whined before disappearing into the kitchen.

Looking out the front door, she discreetly motioned over the skeleton horse that was barely visible through the bushes. Nothing was going to ruin this surprise! Poking her head back into the house and checking to make sure she hadn’t been found out, she called out in Marco’s direction. “Oh hey, the carriage is already here! It’s so convenient, we probably just shouldn’t question it at all! C’mon Marco!” She turned back around and took one step out the door, immediately bumping into someone with enough force to send her onto her butt. Star shook her head and took the offered hand to stand up, finally seeing who it was. “Hi Mom! How are yo-”

“Star, could I borrow you for a short while?”

“What? Mom, nooooo, it’s Marco’s birthday.... tomorrow, which is why we’re just having a totally normal day at the beach today!” Star shouted, aiming her voice back into the house for Marco’s benefit since her mom already knew about the secret surprise party plans.

“I’m terribly sorry, sweetie… this is rather important. It shouldn’t take too long, I hope.” Underneath the apologetic smile was a serious tone that made Star hesitate before protesting further. A normal Mom worry was more like “Star, don’t try to stack warnicorns” or “River, you’ll get sick if you eat that entire mewffalo” and she’d heard it enough times before to know it instantly, but this was something else entirely. It reminded her of how Tom had spoken earlier, which only concerned her more. Maybe Janna had been onto something earlier, which meant maybe this was something important… Yeah, guess I’m doing this. Still though, there wasn’t much they couldn’t accomplish quickly if they put their minds to it, so maybe it could be a quick and easy thing, and they could still have a blast at Marco’s party. When she’d finally gotten the experience of a birthday all to herself after years of dealing with the Stump, she’d immediately resolved to never again let a friend miss their own birthday fun. Never mind that it wasn’t his actual birthday yet, dangit, no errand was going to derail the super special surprise party for her Marco!

As if on cue, Marco emerged from the kitchen with a pack full of supplies. “Alright, Star, I’m- oh, hey, Moon.”

“Marco, you should get going to the beach… Tom’s waiting for you. I mean… probably. Why else would the carriage be here? Mom just needs me to help with an errand for a teeeeensy bit. Peasy squeezy, breezy wheezy!” Her eye twitched. Great job, Star, totally sold it!

“Oooooookay, then.” Marco raised an eyebrow suspiciously. “Let me know if you need any help, you know I don’t mind.”

“Pssssht, naaaaaaaw. Ain’t nothin’ two Butterflies can’t handle.”

“Alright, see you there,” he said, pecking her on the cheek on his way out the door. He smiled and waved goodbye before the carriage whooshed into the ground.

Globgor lifted Star up to his shoulder to sit next to her mother. The cool fall air rippled through Star’s hair as they ascended above the buildings around them; Globgor only got this big for travel when they needed to be somewhere fast. “Alright, spill. What’s going on?”

Moon sighed and folded her hands together, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. “Well, you see, Star... I know you and I have had our differences when it comes to our former kingdom. I’ve spent a lot of time the past year reflecting on its ways, its history, and especially its legacy. Time and time again, we- I repeated the mistakes of our ancestors, and the people of Earthni deserve to know the full story.” She unfurled a thick document from her satchel and handed it to Star, who immediately began skimming the pages. Wait, what was she doing with-

“The old Butterfly Castle?”

“We’re beginning restoration efforts soon to turn it into a place where people can remember and learn. This was actually supposed to be a birthday gift of sorts for you.”

Star crossed her arms and arched her brow inquisitively. “Uh-huh... how exactly is this for me?”

“I want you to advise the project.” Star’s eyes widened in shock. After everything they’d been through, she was being dragged into a big Mewni project again? Any angry retorts were stifled when her mom rested a hand on Star’s own, keeping the other for balance on their precarious perch in the sky. “Star, dear, I know this isn’t the sort of thing you want to do anymore, and it doesn’t need your undivided commitment. I’m not asking as Queen, or even as your mother. Time and time again you’ve displayed wisdom pertaining to these matters well beyond your years, and I shouldn’t- I can’t turn it into a place where anyone can see our history, our people, and all our flaws and strengths for what they truly were without the help of someone who could already do that for herself long before I could.”

Both fell silent for a few moments, deep in thought. The motherly pride and respect warmed Star’s heart immensely, and though it felt weird to think about, she was proud of her mother as well. But… was this the sort of legacy Star Butterfly wanted to leave behind? Hadn’t all of her last efforts on Mewni been to cast aside the undeserved authority her family had? It was certainly a noble aim, but something about it still bothered her. “I’ll… I’ll have to think about it.”

The warmth in the smile Star received proved beyond any doubt that there was no lingering trace of Queen Moon in her solicitation. “I understand.”

“Sooooo what’s the deal with all this, then?” Star flailed her hands wildly in their general direction of travel.

“Our initial construction plans were scheduled to be approved today, but then there was… an unfortunate incident. Mina has returned.”

Star felt her eyes try to bulge the whole way out of her head, as if forced out by her brain exploding at this reveal. “The Mina? Mewman soldier Mina? Evil push-all-monsters-off-a-cliff Mina? Cuckoo-bananas bathe-in-mud Mina? What the heck are we taking any time talking for, then? The whole town could be in danger!”

“No, Star, it’s not- well, yes, it is, but she has no powers. She’s just a regular person who is slightly, as you said, ‘cuckoo-bananas’, though I don’t recall any mud involved. Before we arrived, she had broken into the castle ruins and is now holding it hostage. Manfred might be involved, as well. You’re the only one who might be able to talk some sense into her, or at least figure out how to get her to leave. The city has given us until midnight to get the permit.”

Midnight? But that’s when the Soulrise was… Star had a sinking feeling that this day wasn’t going to be a short one, but this mattered too much to her mother to say no. “I can try,” she said, squeezing her mom’s hand.

Globgor began to shrink as they approached their destination, where she could see Eclipsa’s billowing purple dress and her dad sporting an uncharacteristically formal outfit - heck, they must have really planned for this if he was wearing a shirt and pants at all. She shivered a bit as her feet touched the ground; of all the superhuman genes the Johansens seemed to possess, immunity to the cold just had to be the one she didn’t inherit.

“Thank goodness you’re here, Star,” Eclipsa said gratefully. “It’s far too chilly out today. Mina won’t hear a word from me, I’m afraid… perhaps she’ll listen to you.” She pointed up towards a jagged shard of a ruined wall where Star saw the telltale purple braids.

“Mina!” Star shouted.

“Oh look, it’s my traitorous ex-mud-sister. Back for another round with little old me? I can still take ya any day of the week, you know!” Mina rocked back and forth, still clinging to a stone outcropping. There was no way that was comfortable in the slightest. Did she even feel pain?

“I just want to talk! I’m coming up there!”

Star took one step forward before Mina shrieked. “Bup bup bup! This here castle is for real Mewman patriots only! I got nothin’ to say to you. You can talk to my associate.”

A snobbish man stepped out from the ground-level entryway quickly enough to suggest he’d been waiting there. With his sharp black suit and slicked back hair, it took all the Butterflies only a moment to realize who it was, and they all groaned at the realization. “At your service, m’ladies,” he said sarcastically. Star hadn’t particularly missed Manfred’s snooty meddling in her day to day life, and it wasn’t any more welcomed now. “I will deliver a message to Ms. Loveberry if you so wish, as long as it’s not from the brutish monster.”

Only two minutes into this debacle and Star felt her patience run out entirely. She might have been sardonically impressed if she wasn’t already over this entire affair. “No, I’m going up there.”

River poked her shoulder and leaned in, his eyes narrowing and darting back and forth. “Actually, I wouldn’t mind asking - has she seen the stash of jelly tarts I left in a cupboard years ago?” Star rolled her eyes and walked forward despite Manfred’s protests, with Moon and Eclipsa not far behind. “Alright, nevermind sweetie! Go get ‘em!”

When Manfred tried to get in their way, Globgor stepped between them with his arms crossed, causing the feeble man to cower in overstated fear. “Oh, goodness me, help! The evil monster, he’s intimidating me to oppress my free spee-” Out of the corner of her eye, Star noted no one in the crowd had stepped up to join Manfred or oppose their group, and it lifted her spirit the tiniest bit. Moon took the lead, navigating around all the rubble and climbing up to a safer portion of the wall more level with Mina’s position. So this is what’s left of it. Despite everything, Star hadn’t checked out the castle at all in the years since it stopped being her home. It had been right there, ready for her to make peace with at any time since the dimensions fused, but she just… hadn’t. Maybe it was guilt, maybe it was disdain, maybe it was just being so much happier with what she had now that there was no reason to look back. Narrowly dodging the shards of a broken bust, they continued forward towards the stairs. Seeing it all again, though, made Star think her mother had a point. Their kingdom’s history was full of vital lessons and cautionary tales, but how could the people of Earthni learn them from piles of rubble?

Though Manfred had switched to prim and proper Earth fashion, Mina clung to the remnants of the architecture in the same outfit as always, twirling the braids she’d often used as propellers. From the rips and tears, Star suspected it was literally the same outfit and shuddered. When Mina noticed their presence, she wheeled to face them.

“What do you even want, Mina?” Moon asked. “What’s your game here?”

“Game? This ain’t no game, Moony. I’ve been alive and kicking for even longer than she has,” Mina jeered as she pointed at Eclipsa, “and I’ve spent my whole time fighting for Mewni and the Mewmans - real Mewmans - and I’m not about to let you make a mockery of everything that made our kingdom great.”

“There is no Mewni anymore!” Star huffed as she threw her hands in the air. “There hasn’t been for over a year! And it happened right after you lost!”

“Pfft, you had to give up everything just to keep me from obliterating every last one of you, and it got rid of all your little unicorn stampedes and rainbow blasts, too. Do you think I’m scared of you now? I’d be more worried about that little half-monster brat than whatever half-baked excuse for queens you all are, and she’s not even here!” A giggle erupted down below. Eclipsa scurried over and peeked, gasping as she reached over the edge of the wall and pulled up… Meteora? How had she-

“She must have been nesting in my beard!” River’s voice boomed from the ground below.

The baby cooed at her mother but got a glimpse at the fuming Mina and frowned. “Bad!” She shouted. “Badbadbadbadbad!” Eclipsa struggled to keep her secure in her arms but ultimately won out, lulling the child back to calm.

Mina took the opportunity to hop across a few footholds closer to the tower, still acting dominant and in control. “So you have the little snot now, big whoop! I’ve got an army again, too!” She backed off and ducked behind a pillar in the courtyard. Moments later, they were greeted by… a carefully decorated sock on her hand?

“Mina’s right, monsters are bad!” it said in Mina’s obvious attempt at a deep man’s voice. A second sock joined it, adorned with grass for hair. “Yes,” it chimed in with a high-pitched effeminate cadence, “I can’t stand living in this world with all these lazy monsters hogging stuff from the hard-working people that deserve it!” Confusingly, a third popped in. “And I’m terribly frightened of what they might do to my children!”

“Say what you will, but she is quite talented at puppetry. I didn’t know toes could wiggle quite like that,” Eclipsa snickered from over Star’s shoulder. If she wasn’t just so incredibly done with all of this already, Star might have laughed along - it was becoming increasingly clear how little of a threat Mina posed.

A second later, Mina popped back out and stood before them, visibly missing the sock on her left foot. “See, everyone is saying it!”

Moon buried her face in her hands out of frustration and dragged them down with enough force that her features momentarily sagged. “I don’t have time for these charades, Mina. Your childish tomfoolery ends now. The people of Earthni deserve to see this place and its history that actually existed, not whatever made up fantasy land you’ve concocted in your mind.”

“Hmmph, you do-gooders aren’t gonna budge, eh? Well, you know what, maybe I will let you rebuild this castle. That’d be swell, it was a beautiful place, alright. But Mewni was meant for Mewmans, so if you want to take that and turn it into some big dumb monument to monsters, you’ll have to go through me, and I don’t give up easy, and I ain’t leavin. Wonder how many folks are gonna want to come ‘round when Mina jumps out at em and bops them in the schnozz?”

Eclipsa stepped forward, still rocking Meteora gently back and forth to keep her at bay through all the commotion. “Stand down. The world’s changed, Mina. It doesn’t need any more of this lunacy. Wouldn’t you rather simply live out your life and find happiness?”

“Ha! As if! Seems a lot of people have fallen for your fabricated Mewni malarkey, but not me! I won’t put up with your fake Mews! If you want to stop me, you’ll have to catch meeee!” She rocketed off into the castle. The Butterflies glanced into the corridors in disbelief at just how pointless this all was, but Mina had vanished.

Star folded her arms and curled up into herself a bit as she started to walk away, but felt her mother’s hand pat and squeeze her shoulder sympathetically. “Sorry, dear…”

“Go get Dad and Globgor,” she responded exasperatedly, ignoring her mother’s apology. She knew that there were honest good intentions here, and she did want to at least get Mina out of their hair, but she couldn’t help but be a bit grumpy at the situation she’d been dragged into. “Let’s find her.”

The family, along with a few of the officers who’d shown up, went their separate ways looking for the former kingdom’s final foe. Sunset had come and gone while they searched to no avail and Star found herself slowing down and thinking about her friends and the fun they were probably having. Trying to stave off the mopiness, she idly scrolled through the Marco album on her phone while she searched, her eyes spending equal amounts of time roving the dusty remains of the castle and fondly gazing at the smiles and joy on her friends’ faces. And maybe a bit of ogling Marco’s cute butt in those swim trunks; it never failed to do funny things to her. The most recent picture Janna had sent her as part of their weird tradition was instead centered on Tom trying (and failing) to sneak a pained look at Janna, and had an attached message corroborating the vibe from earlier. So it’s not just me that thinks he was acting really dodgy about something.

A moment later, her Space Unicorn tone - one that was reserved for Marco - went off. Before she’d even finished reading the first text, it played a second time.

“Hey, how’s your thingy with Moon going? We’re missing you here! Let me know when you’re done, we saved half the cake for you. ♥”

“Also, let me know if you need me for anything, I’m here for you.”

Ugh, Marco, why do you have to be so dang sweet and caring? Another set of eyes could maybe help, and she wouldn’t mind having him around to ease the boredom at all, but Star wasn’t going to yank him out of his birthday party even if he’d go willingly. And admittedly she was curious what the deal was with Tom. Janna Banana was near and dear to her, but Star still would’ve been insane to rely exclusively on her if Tom needed a heart-to-heart.

After scanning the empty closet she’d wandered towards, she hastily punched in a message to Marco. “Mina’s back. Long story, not what you think, we’re fine here 👍. Kinda crazy tho. 😵 Will tell you later. 😈 acting a bit strange, stay and try to see why? 🤔 Also have fun, it’s your party!!!!🎊🥳🎉🎈 Hopefully will be done soon, would never miss 👻rise with you 💕💞💏 Love you 😘🥰😻”

With that out of the way, and a small smile returned to her face, she slid her phone into her purse and buckled down on the task at hand. Phone pictures of Marco and a fun birthday party were nice, but she had to get to work if she wanted any chance of the real thing. She nimbly hopped over the crumbled busts and assorted rusty parts of weapons and armor that covered most of the floors and stairways she encountered. Whatever her mom wanted to do here would require a ton of work, and Star could see why she was so eager to get started. Her explorations finally led her to a hallway that stopped her in her tracks. The tapestries of many of the former Queens of Mewni hung before her. Celena, Jushtin, her actual grandma, Comet… all had been torn nearly to shreds and reassembled. Her mom had mentioned what Mina had done here when they sat down not long after the Cleaving to share everything that had happened and make up - a conversation that lasted through more pots of tea than Star could count on her hands - but it was still jarring to see up close. Star slowly made her way to the end of the hallway and into the secret room, where- wasn’t Solaria’s portrait supposed to be here?

“Hyah!” Star was blinded and wrestled to the ground, all movement impeded by a thick canvas on top of her entire body. She was pushed sideways and had the fabric rolled around her like a tube constricting her arms. Pushing forward on her knees, she managed to wiggle the top of her head. Dangit, dangit, dangit. Suspicions confirmed: Mina had pounced on her with Solaria’s tapestry and a bit of help from Manfred. “Gotcha now! I’m slipperier than a slime snake!” Mina gloated, plopping down on top of Star and knocking the breath out of her. “Maybe they’ll take a hostage situation a bit more seriously, hehe!”

“Oh, my goodness, is the little ex-princess in trouble? ‘Tis an awful shame,” Manfred joined her, his voice dripping with gleeful sarcasm. “M’lady, we should abscond soon. The others should be arriving shortly.”

Mina patronizingly patted the top of Star’s head. “Aw nuts, I wanted to have a little bit more fun with my new caterpillar buddy! How’s it feel, Star? As long as I’ve still got eight fingers, eleven toes, and three beating lungs, this world ain’t gonna be taken over by ‘equality’ horsedoodie, you hear me? Monsters are scum, and the world would be a better place if they all took a nice long vacation to Off-a-Cliffsville.”

Star wanted to kick and punch and scream her lungs out. How many times can you ruin everything I care about? While flailing about, she tried to keep herself from grinning too obviously when she noticed a new arrival. She redoubled her efforts to cause a scene and keep the focus on herself so that Mina wouldn’t notice her real hope of escape crawling across the ceiling. Just need to distract… “You’re right, Mina, I can’t beat you. There aren’t any warriors like you.”

“Lookie here, Manny, she’s having a change of heart? What did I tell you? Glad to see someone’s finally letting the logical facts into her thick little noggin.”

“Yep, that’s exactly what I’m doing. But I do have a fun fact for you, though.”

“Oh?”

“There is a warrior a lot more adorable than you, with way sharper teeth.” Star looked above Mina and nodded, and by the time Mina followed her gaze it was too late. Meteora dive-bombed and lashed out, knocking Mina to the ground and forcing her to deal with a pawing, clawing toddler. Manfred cowered in the corner uselessly while Meteora continued to thrash about. The noise must have echoed throughout the castle, as she heard the search squad’s footsteps approaching the scene. Without the two bodies sitting on top of her, Star freed herself from her binding in a minute, by which point everyone else had arrived just in time to corner Mina. Globgor called out to Meteora and got her to back off, leaving behind a very battered and bruised Mina and an indignant Manfred.

Mina glared daggers at the crowd gathering around her, who all seemed a bit too concerned at her instability to make any sudden moves. “Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be with you mooks. Little old me just has a slight difference of opinion and this is how I’m treated? Don’t we live in a society? Instead I’m getting stomped on like a masochistic bushel of grapes!” Her beady green eyes darted frantically around the crowd, causing most to shrivel from the ferocity of her deranged gaze. Tense seconds went by before she finally softened up, gently smiling. “Y’know what, you win. If you want the castle so bad, it’s yours. Just gonna need a friendly barter in return…” The Butterflies all exchanged nervous glances. “You can have your little phony dream house here, but I get to enact my brand of Mewman justice on that ugly rock you monster-smoochers call a temple!”

Moon stepped forward to grab Mina’s arm but was narrowly dodged. “Mina, that’s enough. Everything you’ve said is preposterous, we won’t stand for it.”

“Bit too late on that one, Moony,” Mina taunted, wagging her finger back and forth. The subtle light from the moon and stars streaming through the jagged hole in the ceiling in the room suddenly faded, leaving them all with only the dim glow of the torches lining the walls. Overbearing squawking and flapping sounds, magnified by their echoes throughout the hallways around them, assaulted Star’s ears. She only barely caught the “Gotta fly!” Mina shouted as she was lifted up and out of the room. As the light streamed back in, Star finally saw the culprit: a massive murder of trained crows hauling her through the sky with alarming speed, presumably towards the Monster Temple.

“We have to stop her!” Star shouted, turning to run towards the castle entrance. She stopped when she realized the police officers present weren’t following. “Um, excuse me? A little help? That maniac is about to go destroy my family’s house!”

One of the officers, an older man she recognized from her time on Earth, wrung his hat in his hands. “Hmm, well, gosh, that sure is a pickle… Bit extreme, I’d say, but it’s always nice to see passion from young folks like yourselves. Both of you might have a point, so maybe you should just try sitting down and having a nice calm talk about it. Call us later if there’s still an issue, though!”

A scream erupted in Star’s throat, raw and animalistic. Stupid, stupid, useless! Leaving the officers behind, she and her equally flabbergasted family bolted back towards the exit to track Mina down. The dark bird cloud was still in sight when they exited the castle, nearly bowling over some onlookers and reporters who’d shifted their attention to the birds that had just swarmed out of the scene.

“She’s flying over a bunch of houses, I don’t think I can chase her directly,” Globgor said after growing to survey the distance Mina was covering.

“The Eagle Queen taught me how to speak bird, I’m sure I remember some of it.” River shouted, squatting down. “Now, Globgor, toss me!” Globgor picked River up and threw him in a straight line, enlarging his hand to add to the momentum of the throw. Star cringed as her dad soared through the sky. “Squa-squakah!” he hollered, his voice cracking. The birds parted, leaving a hole in their formation through which he promptly flew right through. “They don’t like me!” he hollered, his voice fading as he fell out of view. Daaaaaad.

“Well,” Moon said, taking a beat to sigh disappointedly, “I’m open to other suggestions.”

Star’s phone buzzed in her pocket; it was another of Janna’s kinda weird but somehow sweet candid Marco camera check-ins. Now’s not the time to tempt me with Marco abs!, she mentally groaned after opening the image. Wait, how is he surfing on LAVA? I know it’s the Underworld, but- Wait a second... Underworld, demon powers, carriage - they could get to the Temple right away!

Her eyes drifted towards the attached message: “ugh tom being super weird, stormed off. did he tell u anything? actually worried about him, haven’t seen him this bad since drama with u. rly dont know how 2 help, can i hang w/ u? dont drool over pic too hard lol” It stopped Star in her tracks for a moment: yes, the immediate situation was a crisis, but Janna being genuinely concerned? Now that was a cosmic anomaly. Star sent a response quickly checking in with the state of things (with an innocent inquiry about Marco abs - cut her some slack, she’s only Mewman) and passed along a message for Marco to stay and check in with Tom. Star was so angry at Mina and at the cops and at never being free of dealing with this freaking warnicorn manure that she wanted to karate chop an entire forest, and Tom and Marco didn’t need that messing up their days even more. But if Janna already needed an excuse to leave, well, Star wouldn’t complain.

“We can still beat them there, let’s not dally,” Eclipsa said, hopping on her husband’s shoulder. “Everyone, get on.” Once Star sent the relevant details and instructions, she followed her mother and off they went. As the minutes passed, Star remained silent while the others strategized, an atmosphere of helpless déjà vu permeating her spirit. Just like the first time facing down Mina, she knew she was just curling up and hiding, but she felt as if there was a seductively depressing whisper in her ear telling her that nothing had changed and that there was no hope of escaping the loony bigots trying to strongarm society. Even changing the world hadn’t been enough, and though she’d still seen growth on the whole, what did it say that the Minas of the world kept popping back up like a horrible game of whack-a-goblin?

Soon after, they finally arrived at Monstertown and dismounted. Eclipsa had at least been right about one thing: the ominous cloud flying in was still at least a minute or two away, though oddly there was no one else to be seen. Janna was supposedly here, according to a text received while Star had been lost in thought on the ride over, but that was the last anyone had heard from her. With seemingly nothing left to do, and not much of a plan, Globgor grew into a one man wall protecting the temple while everyone else readied to defend however they could.

Mina descended, keeping most of her birds circling above her. The defensive line of Butterflies swatted away any that got too cocky, but they were slowly being forced back. Star got knocked over into some mud and was helped up by Eclipsa, and scowled at the damage to her outfit she’d picked out for the beach. “Did the big ugly monsters run away all scared-like? Bah, I wanted to crush ‘em myself, but oh well, I can still have my fun. They’ll be all ‘Oh no, my big dumb mud hut’s gone! Where will I keep all the Mewman babies I want to eat?’” She cackled wildly, and it got on Star’s nerves even more than before. In the background, something peculiar glinted in the moonlight. Star squinted in an attempt to make it out, but she quickly realized what was actually happening when the surrounding area shimmered and revealed an upright chameleonoid monster. It had caught Star looking and used its tail to point at what Star now saw was one of Janna’s potion bottles before blending in once more. What effect it might have, she never knew, but help was help. Just have to distract. Again.

“Hey Mina!” Star yelled, diverting Mina’s attention from the wall of a home she was preparing to bash down. “I thought you were gonna tear down the Temple! Why be cruel to some random monsters’ houses? Aren’t you trying to protest your rights or something?”

Eclipsa turned in confusion. “Star, what-” Star shushed her and tried to indicate with a sharp glare that there was a plan in motion here.

The disgraced warrior tapped her chin for a moment before shrugging. “I kinda like both,” she stated matter-of-factly and wound up for another blow.

“Oh dear, Star,” Eclipsa whispered dramatically, clearly loud enough for anyone nearby to hear. “What are you doing? Don’t you realize all the monsters are probably huddled up in the temple right now?”

“Is that so? Huh, maybe you are useful for something after all. Get ready to kiss ‘em goodbye, then, since I know how much you love doing that.” Mina whistled sharply, gathering a cloud of concentrated feathery darkness around her. “Say goodnight to your mamas. Atta- ech,” she sputtered, wrapping her arms around her sides in a coughing fit. “Golly, monster musk must be getting to me. Now, attack, my pretties!” All the birds lazily circled around her for a moment before plummeting to the ground in a giant heap. “What the corn-” She stumbled and gagged a few more times, falling victim to the gas cloud that Star could now see billowing from the potion bottle, incapacitating all the birds that had inhaled it.

To her right, Star noticed a dirt-covered hatch in the ground pull back as a few unidentified creatures crawled out of it. Mina noticed too late and was tackled to the ground by someone from that group that seemed familiar... Penelope! Star’s face lit up in awe as she recognized the former Spiderbite princess, who held Mina down while she futilely thrashed. A monster with a glowing tail had joined them, which allowed Star to see Slime slink over and quickly slather some goop onto Mina’s arms and legs that bound her to the ground.

“You guys!” Star ran over and yanked the couple into a tight hug for a more-than-welcome reunion. “That was amazing!” The monster that Star just now dubbed Glowtail wrapped its tail around Mina’s mouth to cover up her attempted protests.

“Hey, Star. And Big G, and the other Butterflies,” Slime said, indicating the rest of her family. “Yeah, well, Penny’s totes great.” Slime wrapped an arm around his girlfriend’s shoulders - well, it was more of him just wriggling his gelatinous form into her side. “She can wrestle spiders the size of a dog.”

“Hey, you’re the one that figured out how to make your slime do all that stuff, like glue people’s hands and feet down,” Penny lovingly said, kissing his cheek. Star hadn’t seen them in many months despite visiting Monstertown, often because Slime had been spending a lot of time living as a healer/celebrity in the Forest of Unlikely Spiderbites.

“Just gotta swallow some gum, wait a few minutes, and bam.” He clapped his hands together and stretched them apart to demonstrate how sticky they were. “There’s all kinds of stuff I can do to change it up.”

“Pineapple’s a lot of fun,” Penny mischievously added. Wasn’t there some sort of urban legend about that fruit on Earth? Wasn’t it supposed to… oh. Star’s face heated up when she drew the connection, enough that she was thankful when Mina screeched with an intensity sufficient to cut through their conversation, even with a fluffy tail still stuffed in her mouth.

Glowtail shuddered, running away, presumably to go wash the Mina spittle out of its tail. “Monsters can’t even fight me by themselves! Let me go, you nincompoops!”

“Mina-” Moon sternly grumbled.

“Look, L,” Slime casually interrupted, and though Moon was surprised she relinquished focus to him. “Working together is, like, pretty cool. We made these big community plans if anyone like you ever showed up again. That creepy human girl warned us, my super rad Mewman girlfriend took you down, and a bunch of other monsters made the plans for evac,” he stated as their chameleon friend nodded emphatically. A handful of other monsters lurked around them, presumably having been stationed elsewhere in the village and just now received the signal for it to be safe to check out the action.

“Mewni sucked when everyone was just snobby and mean anyway,” Penny added, giving her boyfriend a lopsided smile. “Everyone in my old kingdom was always covered in spiderbites but we’d just say ‘well at least we’re not those dirty monsters’, but that’s just dumb. Why live like that? Everyone here has been so welcoming, why can’t you?” Mina finally fell silent, hanging her head in what Star might have thought was shame if that didn’t seem so farfetched. “Ugh, it’s too late for this. I’ll go get the others so we can figure out what to do with her. Stay here and make sure she doesn’t go anywhere?” she said as she turned to Slime

He gave a thumbs up and sat down on the ground “You got it, babe.”

“Bye, Star! We should hang out more!”

“Yeah, bye, Penny!” Star waved before turning back towards Slime and a forlorn Mina. “So what now?”

Slime glanced around at the other gathered townsfolk who were calmly keeping watch, though a bit tired and disgruntled. “We’re fine here, if you’ve got somewhere to be. We’ve got stuff under control. Look, I can tell you’re worried, and I’m super grateful for everything you did for us, but things are pretty good now. Feels like we can finally just be, y’know? And we’re ready for any other losers that have a problem with it.”

“Yeah,” she simply responded, getting a bit lost in thought. “Well, see ya.”

“Thank you, to everyone,” Moon succinctly added before the Butterflies all began to walk back towards the entrance to the Monster Temple.

Star felt her eyes glistening at the heartfelt togetherness on display that night, but the feeling was far more than that. She realized her mom must have misinterpreted that though, as she was pulled into a fierce bear hug. “Star, dear, don’t cry… I’m sorry you had to miss the festivities you had planned-”

“No, Mom, it’s not that, it’s just…” Star paused as she struggled to put her emotions into words. “Don’t you get it? This; all of this? This is Mewni!” Her family all looked a bit puzzled. “The castle is still a really cool idea, but the people who have been living and working to build a home together - they’re the ones that have always known Mewni best.”

“What do we make of the hootenanny at the castle, then?” Her dad asked, fending off Meteora’s attempts to poke at his eyes and nose as he held her.

“If you want some of it to be a museum with queens and wars and stuff, that’s fine, and Mom’s the most thorough organizer I know… but I think you should be asking what everyone else from Mewni might want to see.”

Eclipsa affectionately ruffled Star’s hair - something that’s never failed to make Star squirm in happy embarrassment. “Quite the wisdom coming from someone insisting they aren’t wise,” she jested. Star jumped at a terrifyingly loud snore from behind them, where River, Globgor, and Meteora had apparently all curled up on the ground together and promptly fallen asleep - Star couldn’t help but yawn herself at the sight.

She could really just crawl into bed right now until Soulrise… hehe, sunrise, not Soulrise, silly…. oh crud. “How late is it? Don’t we still need to get the castle inspected?” she said, adrenaline giving way to a weighty exhaustion that threatened to knock her out where she stood.

“Perhaps I’ll hold off for some time longer until I’ve had some more input,” her mom mused, putting both hands on Star’s shoulders. “I’m so, so proud of you. I want you to know that, Star.”

“Aww, thanks, Mom. I… I don’t mind helping, but being in charge of this sort of thing… that’s not right for me.”

Moon pulled Star into a gentle hug, and was soon joined by Eclipsa. “I understand, dear. Now go have fun with Marco and get some rest. I believe I spotted Janna in an alley that way pouring something into a puddle.” Star rolled her eyes and wandered off in search of her friend.

Blink. Blink.

Wha… wazzat, where am I? Star blinked a few more times and wiggled her fingers and toes. Ew, sand. Wait, sand? She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and found herself on the beach, resting her cheek on drool-stained red fabric. “Marco?”

“Hey, Star.”

“OhnodidImissit?” she slurred, slumping further into his side. The fog gradually lifted on the details of the past hour - she’d made it to the Underworld and groggily regaled Marco with the story of her day, she could recall that much. She remembered him saying he’d missed her, though he hadn’t been upset, but the rest of the details had been lost as she drifted in and out of sleep.

He shook his head and squeezed her shoulder affectionately as he pointed up above them. Star had to squint when she tried to look up, and after her eyes had adjusted she gasped. Spirits shrieked and soared in and around each other as the Soulrise put on its magnificent display above them. Different souls mingling in harmony was always a special sight to behold… maybe she couldn’t know Earthni’s exact destiny, but those that could fully embrace and understand each other unconditionally had a bright future ahead of them. The thought made her smile dopily at Marco, wholly secure and content as she buried her head into his delightfully pillowy shoulder. “Happbirdaymurrco,” she whispered, finally surrendering herself to slumber.

[technicolordeams]

So some things happened this past week since I wrote my last entry and I'm rethinking my stance on leaving or not. I was able to talk to the one girl who is befriending me and my pastor had a long talk about what makes me me and what I struggle with. I followed what my therapist told me to be which was to be more assertive. I felt very awkward and scared to do it but if I didn't, I'd end up right back where I was feeling anger and abandonment. So for now, I'm still on hold on what to choose to do.

But a couple other things popped up. Not too big but unsettling. My mind just blanked on one of them so I'll just type about the one that's stuck out the most to me right now since it happened literally within the past hour.

So obviously I have problems eating enough to keep my weight stable, let alone gain any without a LOT of work. I've been struggling with it since my gallbladder decided to take a shit on me and demand to be removed which happened on my birthday. During that time I started getting suicidal again and I hadn't dealt with those intense emotions regarding it in several years. But since December it decided to rear it's ugly head and bite into me as hard as it could ever since. It's been 8 months now with very little improvement. And during that time span my health has tanked. I developed breathing problems after my surgery which was horrific enough as it was (imagine not being fully awake but aware that you are out of control of your body and unable to utilize your coping techniques. Just like having a massive panic attack like seizure feeling but you are barely able to be aware of anything besides the viceral fear and blackness because I couldn't wake up. Just... Out of control. And you have no idea how long you were in that state before the nurse could sort of pull you out of it and even communicate more than like two words and slowly peek my eyes open a fraction. Yeah, that's what happened. I had major fear over that for at least a month. Sleeping was hard enough from the surgery and adding in that... Yeah no.) Anyways, since that started up and obviously after surgery it's hard to eat and stuff like that normally. But after the surgery I was (am) having breathing problems. I would have endless coughing fits that would even hit me and make me unable to take a full breath without coughing horribly whatever air I could get right back out. It also made me almost throw up several times (which is my biggest phobia that triggered my eating disorder to go out of control and send me into hospital stays and feeding tube hell). So at least I lost 10lbs since the surgery or even before that. I creep closer to 15lbs though most likely. I haven't been keeping track of it very much because of how much distress I've been dealing with. And I've been dealing with A LOT. Things I wonder if I will be able to get up from without more intense medical help that I probably can't get because of covid.

I've gone through several tests to see why I'm having coughing fits and every answer is that they don't see anything wrong. Well, the ENT appointment I went to the day before I went to see the pulmonary doctor really screwed me over tbh. The ENT doctor gave me steroids that day that I took that same night and told me that the pulls wouldn't affect the asthma test they were going to perform next day. It did. So I had to wait like two months before I could go back and be re-tested. But then covid hit and those practices have been closed ever since. So I can't get an accurate reading on what's going on. They did spot that I had some breathing abnormalities but because of the steroids, they couldn't say for sure. Mind you I had to literally book these doctor appointments and tell my dad you have to take me to these because he didn't think it was that important. Which has pretty much been like everything doctor related that has come up this past year. Just had to put my foot down and tell him I NEED to go to these and I'll be going whether you agree with me or not. Which adds to the distressed feeling and like I'm overreacting and being too paranoid or some shit. Also because I couldn't get actually tested for asthma properly, my regular doctor had to prescribe me with an inhaler but insurance won't help because I have not been diagnosed with it. So I had to cough up (almost literally) over a $100 for medicine that we don't know is right for me or not or whatever.. so that's like $60 every two months? Idk. Which is a lot considering I have a bunch of other bills to pay which includes when I got my wisdom teeth removed (ALL FIVEEE because I'm that extra) which cost $3,000. I have to pay my mom back for another at least year? I don't even know anymore at this point.

I've also been dealing with vision blackouts recently where I almost pass out when I get up here and there. My blood pressure tanked and went to like 70/52 and pulse all over the place. That's better now at least. Chronic fatigue, dehydration, can't sleep very well... Etc. Vitamin D and B12 are on the lower side of the normal range and my body isn't producing enough carbon dioxide.

Now along with all of this bag of shit, I have lost every friend I thought I had and the feeling that I can call anyone friend anymore. I am terrified of calling anyone a friend now because I am afraid that if I let someone in, I will be taken advantage of and lied to like I have in almost every type of relationship I've had since I was little. I am afraid of speaking because I am afraid what I say will offend or upset or whatever someone when all I do is mean well (usually unless you're an asshat). It has made me regress back to my childhood where I couldn't trust anyone and I had nobody except for a penpal on the east coast to keep me company through msn messenger, emails, or rarely phone calls. She was the only one I could call my best friend for a long time and the only one I could open up to about things and the only one who tried to consistently cheer me up when I was hospitalized at 16 by spamming me with emails. I will forever love her and no matter how far we've drifted apart over the years, I will still love her and respond to her as quickly as possible if she ever needed me again. But if we never talk again I'm okay with it. We were there for each other during really bad times in out lives and I like to think we kept each other somewhat sane. She has done more for me than I could ever ask anyone and I'll always be grateful to have "met" her.

But since all of the shit happened with my ex friends... I don't feel safe to get very close to anyone or open up to anyone. Even the girl who defended me and stuff when I was being bullied and manipulated hardly speaks to me now. I wouldn't want to talk to me very much either if all I had to talk about were extremely negative and talk about dying. I can hardly go to my parents about things. I am home alone with just my puppy that likes to get into mischief about 80% of the day. Hardly interact with people online. Usually I just now watch YouTube videos about what's going on with people. I find very little satisfaction playing video games or anything honestly. I have lost art, something that I loved dearly and way too much. I cannot go out most often due to my health. I am stuck at home. I can hardly go outside too. It's too hot (sometimes heat can trigger flashbacks), I found out I'm allergic to grass, and last week I broke out in hives from God knows what so I can't go outside even more. I was put on steroids again for 6 days which causes your immune system to weaken so it won't produce histamines that causes the INSANE itch because every topical and oral medicine OTC would barely help at all. All I do each day is very basic hygiene, sleep when I can, eat as much as I can, and try and relax while taking care of my puppy.

Only two good things has come from all of this: one, I can finally work with a trauma therapist. Hopefully she can help me. Two... Ah I forgot what the second one was actually. Maybe being able to talk to my psychiatrist more frequently? Not sure. I'm very tired right now again lol.

All I know is that I feel very much alone and there's nothing I can do about it. The world outside is extremely dangerous and I am trapped inside my mind too frequently. And there is no extra help I can get.

So all of this led up to my main grievance for today- so far at least lol long ass story to tell just to explain what I'm upset about. My mom earlier asked me if she could give me advice. I told her it depends on what it's about. But she said it anyways. Told me to check my weight each week. She knows I'm not in the most stable state of mind and she knows that me checking my weight constantly can cause a panic attack of it goes down. (thankfully it hasn't really in a month. Only reason why I know is because I had to go to my doctor's twice the past month) I told my dad what she said and he just told me to say okay and leave it at that.

I know I don't want to go back to the state I was in in 2017. I don't want to go through that hell again. Even if I did want to, there'd be way more restrictions with the threat of covid ravaging our place and infecting everyone there. When I pass the eating disorder clinic that I was forced in when I was 16, there is literally nobody there. Maybe a couple cars but they obviously are not treating kids right now. I may be wrong but it would be very dangerous. I know over at the ERC I went to in 2017 is extremely limiting any visitors from coming. The apartments when you graduate to living in temporarily while you go to just a day program only allow maybe two people to stay there at a time and instead of walking to the van pickup spot, they pick you up at your apartment. Psychiatric wards here, or at least one of them that my therapist and I talked about going to, is still slightly operational, but it's over Zoom. So you literally can't get very good support. If you fall off the deep end while at a meeting nothing can be done to help you right there and then if you run away from the meeting.

My psychiatrist told me that if I do feel that I'm in grave danger (I think the trauma therapist I met also said the same) was to go to the ER. But I am afraid to go to the ER and then be turned away quickly and also take a chance that I might catch Covid while there, not to mention the price... And since my parents are essential workers, any one of us could come down with it at any time or be a carrier without knowing. So I'm isolated from people in real life and I don't feel safe talking to anyone online as well. Even if I had someone who wanted to talk to me to begin with that isn't some creepy horny guy wanting pixel sex... I can't think of anyone who I could potentially talk to about anything in my life... I'm just so lost and afraid of both the virtual and real world... Who can I turn to besides my therapist, psychiatrist, or maybe parents depending on what is bothering me, and of course God? I'm told I need a support system. But I can only talk to the doctors so much and my parents aren't very good at being compassionate... I have no one.

I also think about how badly I want to be hospitalized for a little while just so I can get fluids and rest and proper care but that most likely will only happen unless suicide was a big risk.

I am utterly alone...

If anyone reads this long post to the end, you're a crazy human being. xD Going to stop rambling now and put the dishes away and put the pup away for his nap and try and get one in myself.

[waltzofthewifi]

Kota Chapter 12: A Nervous Wreck

Beginning | Table of Contents | Next

The next week was about as close to a normal life as Marinette ever got.

The Lila drama died down. Alya was still friendly with Lila, still giving her the benefit of the doubt, but there was a wariness to it too. When Lacy pointed out the class had almost excluded Marinette from an event, Alya and Nino spent the rest of the week making sure she was included in everything.

Akumas occurred almost twice a day, tiring the heroes out and forcing them to recruit allies more often than not. Alya was ecstatic to receive her miraculous again. Chat Noir was also starting to focus more, no longer bantering or flirting mid-battle as much as he used to.

"Moving my mouth takes too much energy," he complained one night after a four-akuma day, when Ladybug brought up his unnatural quietness.

Thankfully, Hawkmoth missed a day, and Marinette was able to catch up on sleep and her commissions (but not homework, which was still stressing her out). That night, she dreamed she was being eaten by piles of homework, while her parents scolded her for bad time management skills.

That morning, she overslept and barely made it to class in time.

The first thing Marinette noticed was how empty the class was.

"Where is everyone?" Marinette asked, sitting next to Nino.

"Akuma attack." Nino showed her his phone screen, which was streaming the Ladyblog. "Blocked half of the classes path to school. Been out there for about half an hour - still no sign of Ladybug."

"What?" How did she miss an akuma for that long?

"Don't worry, everyone's said in the group chat that they're safe," Mylene commented. "Well, at least I think so. It looks like Lacy might have fallen asleep mid text, and Adrien's didn't make much more sense."

"Alya's trying to film as much as she can," Nino added, his face tense. "I just hope she doesn't get too close."

"I hope Ladybug shows up soon," Alix complained from across the room. "I miss everyone. No offense to current company, or anything."

"I, uh, have to go- check on something-" Marinette muttered. "Be right back!"

She darted out the door, ramming into someone else as she did so.

"Juleka!" Marinette said. "I'm so sorry, I just have to - are you feeling okay?"

Juleka looked a little green, and she was grimacing, but she shook her head. "Just nerves."

"Oh, right, the modeling contest!" Marinette remembered. "When do results come out?"

"Today at lunch," Juleka whispered. She grimaced again.

"Here, why don't I take you down to the nurse?" Marinette said. "Maybe she knows some way to keep you calm before the results come out. It's not like we have class anyways - not with the akuma keeping half the school at home!"

"Thank you Marinette," Juleka said.

.

"Oh no you don't, Squabbie," Elisabeth said. "No falling back asleep on my watch."

Lacy blinked her eyes back open, noticing the footage on the TV screen hasn't changed much since before she closed her eyes.

"I'm not," Lacy argued. "I'm just bored."

She let her eyes flicker close again, wishing her parents would let her fall back asleep. The akuma rampaging down her street didn't look very close to being beaten, and if she could get a few more minutes of sleep...

The apartment shook violently, causing Lacy's stomach to jolt. So much for sleep.

"Looks like I'll have to cancel my next appointment too," her dad commented from where he was sitting at the dinner table.

Elisabeth frowned and checked her watch. "This one is definitely taking a while. And there's still no sign of Ladybug."

"She must live on the other side of Paris or something," Lacy figured.

"Or maybe she's just sleepy like you," Elisabeth teased, reaching from her chair to poke Lacy in the leg.

"You know, this would have been a perfect akuma for our literature test yesterday," Lacy said. "But no, he had to attack when we would have had a peaceful morning instead."

"As peaceful as class can be with Alix and Kim," her dad said, half under his breath.

Lacy chuckled. Her friends did make things interesting.

The TV screen changed suddenly, as the news reporter cheered loudly.

"- and Ladybug arrives at the scene!"

.

Ladybug could feel all of Paris looking at her right then.

The newscasters and videographers and bloggers following the battle all cheered when she landed, as did the civilians trapped around the akuma zone. Ladybug stayed where she landed for a moment, watching the battle raging on the street.

The akuma was large - maybe twice the height of Chat Noir with a thick build - and had chains attached to her hands. She wore all black, with a form-fitting leather jacket and black leggings, and had long, black hair that trailed behind her in a braid.

She raised her fist and slammed the chain down at Chat Noir. Chat Noir dodged effortlessly, and tremors shook were the chains landed.

Ladybug scanned the akuma again, not seeing a clear item that could hold the akuma. She would have to get closer.

She wrapped her yo-yo around a building and flew past the battle, landing next to Chat Noir.

"Sorry I'm late," Ladybug said.

"You're right on time," Chat Noir replied.

The akuma struck again, and Ladybug and Chat Noir bounded out of the way.

"Her name is Nervewrecker," Chat Noir reported. "I think she's one of the models participating in the contest that announces today. Her main powers are the chains and her heightened strength. Wherever the chains hit, powerful tremors follow."

Ladybug nodded. She had observed as much.

Nervewrecker struck again, forcing the two superheroes to dodge in opposite directions. Ladybug landed next to an apartment building, but Nervewrecker was already swinging her chains again. Ladybug bolted out of the way, and the chains swung into the apartment building. The tremors destroyed what little of the building wasn't affected by the original swing.

"We need to get her away from the civilians," Ladybug called.

Chat Noir landed next to her. "Exactly what I was thinking. The stadium?"

"You read my mind."

Moving together, Ladybug and Chat Noir launched themselves up onto the nearest rooftops. Ladybug swung her yo-yo to the nearest high point, Chat Noir extended his baton, and they soared towards the stadium.

They landed several blocks over, and Ladybug paused to check that Nervewrecker was following them.

"Looks like she's right behind us," Ladybug said. "Let's go."

Ladybug and Chat Noir bounded over another few blocks, landing only a few streets from the stadium. They paused, giving the akuma time to catch up with them.

"Any idea of where the akuma is?" Ladybug asked.

Chat Noir shook his head. "I was hoping you'd see something."

The ground shook, edging Ladybug and Chat Noir to continue on.

They landed on the edge of the stadium, and both jumped down into the center of the field.

"So she was akumatized from nerves from the contest, right?" Ladybug asked.

"From what I can gather," Chat Noir confirmed.

"Most akumas who are akumatized from nerves have some kind of a fidget or something related to the cause of the nerves as the akumatized object," Ladybug observed. "Like a bracelet they play with if they're nervous, or a letter or something they received from the contest."

"I didn't see anything like that," Chat Noir said.

"Me neither," Ladybug agreed. "But keep your eyes open."

Nervewrecker landed in the stadium with a boom.

"Hand over your miraculous," she commanded, flicking one of her chains. "And then leave me in peace."

"Hey, you're the one disturbing the peace," Ladybug argued.

Nervewrecker scowled, and raised a hand to strike.

Ladybug and Chat Noir dodged opposite ways.

"I don't see how this is helping with your nerves," Chat Noir commented.

"Oh, it's helping a lot," Nervewrecker replied. "I was shaking in anticipation, but now the whole world will." She struck again, forcing Chat Noir to dodge.

Ladybug watched, scanning Nervewrecker in search for the akumatized object.

Her attacks were one after the other, but as Ladybug watched, her right-handed attacks were more accurate than her left. And stronger.

"Chat Noir! Cataclysm the chains on her right hand!"

Chat Noir nodded briefly that he understood, before using his staff to launch himself over another swipe from Nervewrecker.

"Cataclysm!"

His hand brushed against Nervewrecker's right hand, and the chains turned to dust. She roared, trying to knock Chat Noir away, but he was already behind her.

Chat Noir landed in a roll and came up next to Ladybug.

"I think I saw a ring on her hand," Chat Noir commented.

Ladybug scowled. Rings were always hard to destroy.

"We're going to need something to break it without having to remove it from her hand," Ladybug commented. "Lucky Charm!"

A screwdriver fell in her hands.

"Looks like your Lucky charm might be from Ikea this time," Chat Noir commented.

Above them, news helicopters began to circle.

"Metal," Ladybug said. "We're going to need something large, and metal. Can you distract her for me?"

"Of course," Chat Noir replied.

Nervewrecker swung at the two superheroes, and they separated. Ladybug ran for the bleachers while Chat Noir began to taunt her.

She had to hunt for a few supplies, but eventually she found everything she needed. She quickly unscrewed several metal bleachers and attached them to each other with duct tape.

"Now, all I need is a ride," Ladybug thought. She sent her yo-yo straight up, tying it around the landing skids, and pulled herself up over the battle field.

The extra weight made the helicopter lean sideways suddenly, but Ladybug let got before it could crash. She fell straight down, guiding her contraception to Nervewreckers hand. She let go at the last moment, watching as the several pieces of heavy metal hit the ring, cracking it. A butterfly flew out

Still in free fall, Ladybug captured the akuma. A second later, she felt something slow her stop as Chat Noir reaches out for her, his baton extended in the air.

The two dropped down the field. Ladybug finished purifying the butterfly, watching as it flew away.

"Miraculous ladybug!"

.

Juleka approached Adrien almost the moment he got to school, looking like a nervous wreck.

"Any word?" Juleka asked.

Adrien shook his head. "But don't worry! You're application looked amazing. I'm sure you have a good chance at winning!"

The two headed into class, Adrien taking his seat next to Nino and Juleka hers by Rose.

"I really hope Juleka gets chosen for this contest," Adrien commented. "She definitely deserves it."

"Don't worry, dude," Nino replied. "You said it yourself - she has a great chance. And even if she doesn't win, didn't you say that several of your coworkers displayed interest in working with her anyways?"

"Yeah, you're right," Adrien agreed. "I guess her nerves are infectious."

"Sounds like she's not the only one," Alya said, leaning over towards the boys' desk. "Did you see the akuma this morning?"

"Nervewrecker?" Adrien asked. "Yeah, Nathalie wouldn't let me leave until she was defeated."

"I don't blame her," Alya said. "Did you see the damage she caused?"

Nino nodded. "Nathaniel said his entire apartment building got destroyed."

Marinette arrived and slipped into the seat next to Alya.

"Any word about the contest?" She asked.

"Not yet," Alya replied. "The anticipation is lethal."

Miss Bustier walked in soon after, quickly taking attendance.

"Looks like we're just waiting on Lila and Chloe," she noted.

"Wish it was always like that," Marinette muttered.

Her wish didn't last, though, and Chloe walked in seconds later.

"Miss Bustier," Chloe greeted. "I have something I want to tell the whole class."

Marinette groaned. "This will be fun."

"Marinette," Bustier admonished. "Let's listen to what Chloe has to say."

"Thank you," Chloe said.

"Would you maybe like to wait for Lila?" Bustier suggested.

Chloe made a face. "Ugh, no, not her."

"It's not nice-"

"I'm doing this now or never," Chloe interrupted. "I don't owe Rossi anything, but-" Chloe took a deep breath, glancing at Adrien.

Adrien has no clue what was going on, but Chloe needed reassurance, so he shot her a thumbs up.

"Okay, I'm just going to say it. I'm sorry."

.

Marinette had never, in her life, been so shocked.

"You're apologizing?" Alya blurted. "Should we be worried about an akuma? Is someone holding you for ransom?"

"No, Cesaire." Chloe took a deep breath. "I, Chloe Bourgeois, daughter of the mayor of Paris, of my own free will under no influence from akumas or Hawkmoth, formally apologize." She released the rest of her breath. "So, yeah, I'm sorry."

"What, why?"

Alya was obviously as blown away by this as Marinette was.

"Because of you," Chloe said. "You were right, Cesaire. Ladybug believed in me, that I could change, and I had done nothing to deserve that faith. But... I want to."

Marinette stared at Chloe, sure that she would take it all back. Or that an akuma was causing this. Or anything...

Anything but this.

This didn't make any sense.

At all.

Marinette dully noted that Alya's mouth was wide open.

"Thank you, Chloe," Bustier said. "That was well said, and I'm sure everyone accepts your apology."

That brought Marinette back to the present.

Did she accept Chloe's apology?

"We appreciate the sentiment, Chloe," Marinette finally said. "But actions speak louder than words."

Marinette thought back to the past week, trying to remember if she noticed any changes with Chloe since she had this supposed revelation.

And... nothing.

She hadn't noticed Chloe at all.

No akumas, no fusses, no big arguments, no nothing. Chloe hadn't terrorized anyone, spilled coffee on anyone's artwork, made fun of anything. In the morning, she gave a compliment - a real compliment - and kept to herself during the rest of the exercise.

She wasn't quiet, by any means, but her comments, while interruptive, hadn't been mean. No one had run out of room crying because of Chloe. Chloe hadn't run down Ladybug, demanding her miraculous or a photo.

Nothing.

"I think you've made an effort," Marinette finally decided.

"Yeah!" Alix agreed. "No akumas in the school for a whole week!"

"And you complimented my project yesterday," Rose added.

Most of the class nodded along, muttering about small things here and there. Alya was the only one not agreeing, but she still hadn't moved from the shock stage.

"I'm really proud of you, Chloe!" Adrien added.

Chloe blinked twice, turning a little red. "Th-Thanks. That means a lot."

Alya's mouth was still wide open as Chloe sat down, and Marinette leaned over it closed it for her.

Alya turned to Marinette. "Did that really happen?"

Marinette nodded. "I think it did."

"Oh, and another thing," Chloe said. "I heard from a very reliable source that the winner of the modeling contest is a student at our school."

"Did you hear that, Juleka?" Rose asked.

"Now, there's a lot of people in this school who applied, but," Chloe continued. "I think you have a good chance, Couffaine."

"There's definitely an akuma somewhere," Alya grumbled.

Marinette chuckled.

Adrien turned back to them. "This is actually a lot like how she was when we were younger. I knew she could still be nice."

"But she needed a good friend to push her along," Marinette said. "What you and Alya said to her - it must have finally hit her that she needed to change."

"And Ladybug, of course," Alya added.

"Ladybug inspires all of us to be better," Adrien agreed.

"Well said, dude," Nino added.

Marinette felt herself redden at the compliments, and hoped no one would wonder why.

Her good mood was ruined instantly when Lila entered, looking overly pleased with herself.

"You look happy, girl," Alya noted.

"I am," Lila confirmed, sitting next to Adrien. "All thanks to Adrien here."

Adrien looked very baffled.

"Adrien's such a good friend," Mylene commented. "I'm sure whatever he did for you was really nice!"

Marinette was sure that whatever he supposedly did, Adrien actually had no part in.

"Oh it was!" Lila agreed.

"What was it?" Rose questioned.

"Oh, I shouldn't tell," Lila said. "After all, it's not confirmed or anything. Not yet."

Marinette's stomach lurched. There was no way she had managed that, was there?

Adrien still looked completely baffled. Across the room, Marinette saw Lacy chewing her lip nervously.

Not good not good not good not g-

"Tell us!" Kim replied. "The anticipation is killing us."

"Okay, fine, fine." Lila flipped her hair back over her shoulder. "He promised he'd help me win that big modeling contest!"

The whole room went dead.

This time, it was Nino's turn to look completely baffled. Alya gave Lila a look Marinette couldn't parse, Chloe huffed, and Lacy hid her face in her hands.

"W-What?" Rose asked.

"Since when did you want to be a model?" Alix questioned.

Ivan shot Adrien a glare, and Adrien, for his part, looked pissed.

"No I didn't," Adrien ground out. "Lie about yourself all you want, but don't drag me into this."

"Lila that's great," Bustier said, completely oblivious. "And Adrien, that was sweet of you!"

"Yeah," Ivan snarled.

"I didn't," Adrien repeated.

"Oh, and he's so humble about it too," Lila continued.

"Lila, just shut up," Marinette said.

"I'm very confused," Nino stated.

Bustier glanced around the classroom, beginning to deduce that something was amiss. Lila's eyes were growing wide as she realized the class wasn't responding as she hoped.

Marinette opened her mouth to say something - explain why Lila was lying, without putting Juleka on the spot - but before she could speak, Juleka darted out of the classroom.

Marinette only hesitated a moment before following behind her.

.

One of the first things Marinette had learned about Juleka was that she had a favorite bathroom. Usually, when Juleka was upset, she would hide in the bathroom until either Marinette or Rose would talk her down.

This time, Juleka barely made it to the stairs, and Marinette knew it was bad.

Marinette stopped right behind her, and so did the two students who had also followed her out of the room.

Adrien let out an uncharacteristic curse, startling Juleka a little.

"That definitely wasn't cool of her," Rose agreed. She moved towards Juleka and sat next to her.

Marinette sat down on the other side of Juleka, and Adrien sat behind her.

Juleka's face was blank, and she was mindlessly fidgeting with the mirror on her bracelet.

"I promise I didn't do anything she said," Adrien clarified.

"You don't have to lie to me," Juleka whispered. "If I was cut out to be a model, then you should have just said so."

"You are!" Adrien argued.

"Lila's a liar," Marinette stated. "She has been lying ever since she got to this school."

"Why did I think I had a chance?" Juleka's voice broke, and she sniffled.

"Because you do," Adrien said. "Everyone I talked to said you do."

Marinette put a reassuring hand on Adrien's knee. I don't think she's listening to us.

Adrien sighed, and Marinette could see resignation on his face.

Rose leaned up against Juleka, and Juleka leaned her head against Rose's.

"Even if you don't win the contest, you're still a good model," Rose whispered. "And a good person. You're spiraling right now. Whatever you're thinking isn't true."

Juleka nodded.

"Just breathe," Rose whispered.

Marinette watched them for a moment, before standing up. She gestured for Adrien to follow her.

"I'm going to text Luka," Marinette whispered. She quickly sent off a text, and Luka replied almost instantly.

"He's on his way." Marinette looked up, noticing that Adrien wasn't watching her. He was glaring off into open air.

"You okay?" Marinette asked.

"Yeah," Adrien replied. He turned back to her and smiled his model smile. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Adrien's phone dinged, and he dug it out of his pockets.

"Results from the contest," Adrien said. Marinette watched as his face scrunched up in anger.

Adrien scowled and stood there for a moment, his breathing getting heavier, staring at his phone.

Then he moved, quick as lightning, and lodged his phone towards the other end of the school.

Marinette felt her stomach drop. "Lila won."

Adrien didn't move. "Lila won."

Rage pulsed through her veins, and Marinette cursed and rammed her fist into the closest wall.

"How?" Marinette growled. "How does she keep pulling this stuff off?"

Marinette turned to Adrien, who had straightened himself up. He clenched unclenches his fists, still not looking at Marinette.

"This sucks," he breathed. "She doesn't even want it, she just wants to be able to brag about it."

Marinette walked up to the railing and leaned on it, letting her anger and... and tiredness wash through her.

"I'm sick of this," Marinette replied. "I'm sick of her."

Adrien shook his head. "I'm an idiot. I can't believe I thought ignoring her would make her go away."

"It's not like anything I did helped," Marinette said.

"At least you tried," Adrien argued. "You did everything you could to help, but I thought that the best way to help was to do nothing, say nothing, like it'd all blow over like some tabloid."

Marinette stood there for a second, closing her eyes and just feeling the anger, the helplessness. Like a wave.

And for a moment, she could feel Adrien's too. One of his friends was hurt, too, and he felt anger. He felt helpless.

It was like they were in sync.

"She's going down," Marinette decided, turning away from the railing and marching back to the classroom, Adrien on her heels. She swung open the door, a little more forceful than necessary, and walked inside.

To a classroom that had already dissolved into chaos.

[ketopian]

Putting Your Money Where Your Research Is

So my wife and I are starting a business selling all the Ketogenic Diet related things that we wish there was already a website for. We've been eating keto for a couple of years now and it has had a huge impact on our health and our lives. My wife has lost a huge amount of body fat and overcome multiple metabolic issues and I've been able to stop taking immunosuppressants for Crohn's Disease and am now completely drug free. We both have hugely increased energy levels. There are loads of great Keto and Low Carb blogs in the world, so I thought long and hard about writing yet another one, but I thought that a) it might help me to get more clarity on certain issues b) give me reason to experiment a bit more with my meals, as I've gotten a bit lazy of late and everyone loves a recipe, and c) force me to consolidate all I have learned from reading various bits of scientific literature in relation to nutrition, which is something I do a lot given my past as a scientist, engineer and science teacher. While my background isn't medicine, I have spent the last few years educating myself on biochemistry. This was originally to help my wife with various issues (many of which a plan to go into at a later date), but I quickly discovered that there was a lot more I could learn.   

I, like most scientifically minded or "sceptical" (there's a word that's been seriously corrupted by the internet) people, thought I knew all there was to know about nutrition: a calorie is a calorie, an energy deficit is all you need to lose weight, and no, you aren't fat because of your hormones. I went at least a little further than most; I understood how digestion worked and that starches ended up as glucose in the body, a message some medical professionals still seem to have trouble with. Nonetheless, it came as a shock to me when all this stuff didn't seem to work for my wife. I was seeing how little he was eating, how hungry she was getting and how difficult it was for her to shift those fat stores. Her pregnancy was a major turning point. PCOS had been mooted before but it was never confirmed until a scan ended up with the radiographer saying “Your ovaries look a little polycystic to me”. This was followed a number of weeks later by a diagnosis of Gestational Diabetes, accompanied by the standard advice – eat regular meals (six per day plus snacks) and make sure you have loads of carbohydrate at each – accompanied by the offer of medication. Well, we were both determined that that wasn’t going to happen, so I set about researching, which is what I do best (well, one of two things, but we’ll come to the other much later). The obstetricians could not believe her blood sugar readings – they were better than most non-diabetics. One of them even asked to see the glycometer, as such low readings could not be possible. How did we do it? By ignoring all the advice we were given, reducing carbohydrates to a very low level (although not keto levels at that point) and using a small number of carefully researched supplements. We didn’t mention the supplements to any medical professional; we had enough patronising advice from them, but it was following the science that allowed my wife to avoid medication and to produce a daughter who was born incredibly healthy and with a great start in life.

I don’t want to criticise the medical community too much, most of them are only trying their best, but there is a certain amount of arrogance which tends to come with being a doctor, which often is not concomitant with their intelligence or knowledge. Just as in any other field of endeavour, ability as a medical practitioner is on a bell curve. In other words, there are a few who are fantastic at their jobs, a few who are truly awful, and most are pretty much middling in ability. I’ve taught students who became doctors, and if I were ever given an appointment with them, I’d run a mile! Most doctors follow the guidelines, and it’s a lottery as to whether you get to see the occasional few who do enough research in the right areas to go beyond that. If we educate ourselves to a high enough level, we may be able to help our doctors to help themselves and then eventually to help everyone else.

So back to the story. So this whole pregnancy episode got me really intrigued. Was everything I knew actually complete bullshit? I had spent around close to 300 hours during Hayley’s pregnancy reading papers and getting familiar with the biochemistry and biology of nutrition, and countless more hours not sleeping but thinking about what I had read. It completely changed my attitude to my own knowledge. It had also deeply concerned me. How could everyone have been so wrong on this for so long? Well, it turns out that they absolutely could be, and the reasons are complex and too long for now (stay tuned for a post on this precise subject), but there was something else that intrigued me.

I have Crohn’s Disease. For those of you who don’t know, Crohn’s Disease is an autoimmune disease of the gastrointestinal tract. What this means is it causes inflammation, ulceration and pain, anywhere from the mouth to the anus. It is essentially when your own immune system decides that your gut is a foreign object and therefore needs destruction. My own Crohn’s was mainly confined to the colon, although I also got very large and painful mouth ulcers. Crohn’s is usually treated with steroids, anti-inflammatory drugs, immunosuppressants, which damp down the immune system, and a more recent sort of therapy called biologic therapy. I had been a biologic many years ago, but I was fairly lucky in that I was OK on just anti-inflammatories and immunosuppressants, however the immunosuppressants were not pleasant. I got every illness going. If I got a cold, I had it bad for two weeks, including having to spend a day or two in bed. I had got to the end of my tether; there had to be another way.

Enter ketone bodies. So if you know anything about ketogenic diets you probably know that when you restrict carbohydrates enough that your body starts to use fat to create substances called ketone bodies, the most important of which for human metabolism is a chemical called Beta-hydroxybutyrate (BHB). Well, it turns out BHB has a strong anti-inflammatory effect. “Aha,” I thought to myself,” This might be worth a go”. It was. I had tried to come off medication several times previously, under medical supervision, of course. Always, within about six weeks, I would have a serious and painful relapse. Not this time. I bit the bullet, stopped my medication (this time without telling any medical professionals) stopped the carbs and waited, fully expecting the usual relapse. It’s now been two years drug free and I have never felt better. I would go as far as to say I have no symptoms of Crohn’s. While I would hesitate to say all Crohn’s sufferers should do this, especially the way I did it, it might be worth a try if you’ve had enough of the side effects of your drugs, or if you can’t get any relief and just want an extra bit of help. With medical supervision, of course. It might also be worth a try if you have any other autoimmune disorder, such as ulcerative colitis, rheumatoid arthritis, psoriasis, lupus and maybe even multiple sclerosis. Please don’t take this as medical advice but try to educate yourself and your medical practitioners as much as possible on this subject. If you want any help in this endeavour please let me know.

Well, this has been a long and rambling story, but we’re almost up to date. Since my discoveries I have helped a number of friends and family members send their type 2 diabetes or prediabetes into remission, lose weight and become healthier, both physically and mentally. My wife is slimmer, healthier and feels generally better. I didn’t even realise I had fat to lose but the recent appearance of my abdominal muscles seems to confirm that I actually had a fair bit to get rid of. All by getting rid of refined sugar, starchy carbs and the vast majority of processed foods, and getting BHB levels up. Do I think that everyone should be doing keto? Absolutely not. Everyone’s biology is unique – some people will respond fantastically to a ketogenic diet, some people will get less than nothing from it. But for those for whom it works it is life changing. Hopefully via the website, this blog and the planned videos we will be able to help more people get what they need out of this incredibly powerful dietary intervention. 

TL;DR: For lots of people Ketogenic Diets are awesome. Welcome to Ketopian.

[joon-bugs]

Erupt

“So you’re done talking. I point you out on your bullshit and you decide you don’t want to talk anymore!” You yell down the hallway after him. This is ridiculous. All of it was bullshit. When you two first started dating your arguments consisted of what flavor Doritos to buy or if you were going to watch Dragon Ball Z or Naruto. After spending so much time apart it was hard to relate to each other’s ways. He’d grown so much as a person and as an idol and you stayed your college student self, going with the flow but now you felt like you were in a constant battle to see who was more mature than the other.”

word count: 3333 

pairing: Namjoon/ fem reader

genre: angst and smut

warnings: profanity, dom!fem reader, face sitting, fem riding, sex (lol), alcohol

“Namjoon get the fuck out of my face.”       

The bass of the speakers consumed your anger, making you that much closer to erupting.

“I just don’t understand why you’re mad at me.”

“Will you ever Namjoon? If you want to talk we aren’t doing it in here.” You turned around taking another drag of your four loko, but before you could walk away he yanked your wrist turning you to face him.

“We’re talking now come on.”

“Kim fucking Namjoon I didn't come here to kiss and makeup. If you want to make an appointment with me later you’re more than welcome. Now if you can get in that's a different conversation but you know where to find me Joonie.” You whisper-yelled at him, gently smacking his cheek and leaving the potent trail of sour green apple in your place as you walked away.

You finished off your drink, letting the negativity soak away and the music come back to your senses and take over your body. You grabbed the neck of some random suitor, grinding into his pelvis. You could feel his eyes burning holes into your body as you danced but who gives a damn because drunk you sure didn’t. Three dancing partners later the lights in the apartment were turned on and sweaty bodies filed out the apartment. You pulled out your phone and pulled a successful drunken attempt to dial your little brother's number.

“Jeong-in can you pleaseeeeeee come get me?”

“What happened to Namjoon?”

“Ugh fuck that dude can you come get me please?” Before he could answer your phone was snatched out your hand.

“It’s cool Jeongin I got her. A sober and pissed off Namjoon hung up your phone and led you outside the humid apartment.

“Namjoon WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU DO THAT. Leave. Me. Alone.”

“Calm down.”

“You’re taking me to my house.”

“Not like this, I’m not. Your parents don’t care if you’re 23 they’ll still be pissed if you come home like this.”

“Like what exactly?”

“Y/N you look and smell like a hot ass mess.”

“And you wonder why I’m mad at you all the time.”

“Come on the Lyft is here.” It wasn’t long before you were stuffed into the back seat of a musty Hyundai Sonata. The long ride opted you to fall asleep.

You woke up in a familiar bed in your routine pajamas: a t-shirt and boxers. Of course, you’d end up at Namjoon’s after telling yourself you were done with his bullshit. To hide in his bed or to face the bitch. That was the question. You threw the duvet off of your body in anger and placed your bare feet on the cold hardwood. You stretched and shook out your disheveled hair and walked out to the kitchen where  Namjoon sat at the counter, working on his laptop while sipping on his coffee. His honey blonde hair fell flat on his forehead nearly dangling in front of his eyes.

“You ready to act like the adults we are?” He asked, most likely noticing your footsteps coming down the hallway. His annoying attitude caused you to throw a silent fit behind him. All you wanted was to have a free weekend but now the cheapness of the four loko god’s got the best of you once again. You answered him with the sound of the suction releasing from the fridge and grabbed the unfinished gallon apple juice you left there and chugged it, relieving you of the cottonmouth you woke up with.

“Oh so you want to treat me like an adult now?” you finally responded after wiping your mouth clean of apple juice.

“If you act like a kid I’m going to treat you as such.” Namjoon was still irritatingly deep into his laptop.

“See that’s where you’re wrong, I’m not childish you’re just a control freak trying to hang on to any last bit you can.” You rummaged through his cabinets on the hunt for good hangover snacks. He must have moved them since last week what an ass. You thought sourly.

“I haven’t been grocery shopping since Monday so I ordered our breakfast.”

“Ugh, my savior what would I do without you?” Every bit of sarcasm was laced in your response as you fake fainted against his broad back.

The constant arguing had just happened last month when he came back home for a break. Your free-spirited personality wasn’t as much of a turn on for him anymore and something changed as he felt like he needed to be more controlling. At first, you understood the fact that he didn’t have control of much in his life being that he’s a kpop idol, but as soon as it became a constant routine for him to father you around (and not in a good way), the more you grew irritated. Age wasn’t even an excuse for him you were a normal twenty-three-year-old adult with somewhat of a nine to five job and grad school to take care of. So what if you still thrived within the college night-life, you were a grown woman.

“You’re so fucking irritating.” Namjoon murmured under his breath.

“Then why’d you bring me here? Jeong-in could’ve driven me to my apartment and I would’ve been fine.”

“Because we need to talk Y/N, ignoring me for a week doesn’t solve anything.”

“I know it doesn’t but I needed space and  last time I checked I’m a grown ass woman and I don’t need a helicopter parent.”

“A helicopter parent? So you think me making sure you don’t make stupid mistakes because I love you is me being a helicopter parent.”

“Namjoon it’s not just that it’s you telling me to take off “all that makeup”, I’m a business marketing major I work in the makeup industry everyone looks like this at work. Or when you wake me up an hour before my alarm because you don’t want me to be late to work which I never am. Or is it when you try and to take my drinks from me the one night I let loose because you think I’ve had too much when I know my limits. I’ve known my fucking limits since I was 17 Namjoon. OR WAIT is it when you-” Your rant got cut off by a buzz at the door.

“Food’s here.” Namjoon calmly said before getting up from his almost monumented position. After a quick exchange with the delivery guy, he placed a giant brown bag and drink holder on the kitchen counter and started sorting things out.

“Sweet and creamy iced coffee and two cinnamon bagels with extra cream cheese… your favorite.” He gently slid your breakfast across the granite countertop. A ping of guilt drifted across your body.

“Thanks, Joon.” You two ate in silence kept company by the sounds of knives against bagels and spoons against bowls.

“You know I act like this because I care about you right?”

“I know Joon, but I don’t need a manager”

“Oh and I do?”

“Namjoon you’re a fucking kpop idol of course you do. There’s a difference between your fame and my normal lifestyle.”

“I just don’t understand how I’m controlling.”

“There’s a fine line between being a caring boyfriend and a controlling boyfriend and you’ve been wearing the fuck out of it.  Joon I’m an adult I can take care of myself. Half of these responsibilities you think you have in our relationship you took on yourself because you’re so used to being a leader that you don’t even rest when you get home. There’s two of us in this relationship you don’t need to do everything.”

“So in order for you to get this off of your chest, you had to get drunk at a house party and dance on four random guys?”

“Jesus, Namjoon you are impossible. Dancing doesn’t mean anything if you were paying attention which I know you were, I didn’t even let them touch me. It was just dancing. I’m sorry it wasn’t the most mature way to react.”

“Whatever.”  He quickly collected the trash off of the counter and walked away to his bedroom.

“So you’re done talking. I point you out on your bullshit and you decide you don’t want to talk anymore!” You yell down the hallway after him. This is ridiculous. All of it was bullshit. When you two first started dating your arguments consisted of what flavor Doritos to buy or if you were going to watch Dragon Ball Z or Naruto. After spending so much time apart it was hard to relate to each other’s ways. He’d grown so much as a person and as an idol and you stayed your college student self, going with the flow but now you felt like you were in a constant battle to see who was more mature than the other.

“Namjoon we aren’t done talking.” You pushed open the bedroom door to find him at the edge of the bed with his face in the palms of his hands.

“Namjoon come on. I know we both have stuff to work on. We need to talk about it.” The bed sank under as you sat next to him.

“I’m tired of fighting.”

“I am too. I hate fighting with you.”

“Than stop being so petty.”

“You stop being so damn controlling and we got a deal.”

“See Y/N its shit like that. The way you respond is childish.”

You could feel the anger in you start to rise, it wasn’t long before you erupted into a profanity-filled rant. He knew more than anyone else how to piss you off. He was like a constantly nagging mom that you could never make happy anymore.

“What part of we both have things to work on did you not get?” You threw your anguish filled body on the bed.

“So guys aren’t the only thing you throw yourself on. I’ll take note.”

With those words that left his mouth the last straw was placed on the camel's back. The yell that was about to burst out of your body was a new level of pissed off he had never seen. After being together for two years. Two years of teaching each other how to not only love yourselves but each other. Two years of learning how he likes certain things, things not even the craziest of fans would know. Two years of what must have been the honeymoon stage were about to break into a madhouse. The boy you loved had your blood boiling deep within. And finally, you snapped.

“OH MY FUCKING GOD, I’M THE CHILDISH ONE BUT YOU WANT TO BRING UP OLD SHIT I APOLOGIZED FOR. HAVE YOU BEEN LISTENING TO ME THIS WHOLE TIME OR DID YOU TUNE ME OUT BECAUSE IT’S NOT WHAT YOU WANT TO HEAR?!” You reached back and grabbed the dense decorative pillow from behind you and threw it at the back of his head.

“HUH NAMJOON? HAVE YOU?!”

As soon as the pillow made contact with his skin, he had you pinned underneath him. You could feel the temperature of his wrath radiating off of him, his face centimeters from yours. The sweet scent of his coffee breath flowed into your nostrils.

“Throw something one more time and see what happens.” He nearly growled at you. Your contracted pupils met his, neither of you had ever been this angry with each other before.

“Get off of me.” Your once angry and emotion-filled voice was calm and still.

“You know what?” Namjoon said as he flipped himself off of your body

“Leave.”

“LEAVE? If you want me to leave, tell me you don’t want me anymore and I’ll go.”

Silence filled the room as his body was angled away from you, he was staring blankly at the wall before him. You sat up and waited for his response still in his shirt and boxers. You could hear the occupants of the apartment above you rummaged around. The silence turned into a countdown and it went off once again.

“Great answer Namjoon, I’ll leave!” You grabbed your dress and heels off the nightstand and stormed through the bedroom door.

“I didn’t even say anything!” He said chasing after you. “Well, you didn't answer either. Communicate.” You turned around to face him and argued back, poking him in the chest with every syllable. “Y/N…. stop.” You continued antagonizing him. “You want me to stop because you want two years to go in the trash right? You want me to leave right?” “STOP.” He finally gave in and raised his voice, shocking you when he firmly grasped your upper arms.

“Just fucking stop. Stop jumping to conclusions.” “You were thinking it.” His hands slid up to your face and he brought his forehead to yours.

It felt like the sound of birds chirping after a storm. Emotions didn't subside and evidence of the storm was still there. A new blanket of calm fell in the room.

“No, I wasn’t... I’m sorry I don’t want you to leave. I don’t want you to change. I don’t want to throw us in the trash. I’ll stop.” His lips grazed yours and as he pulled you into a passionate kiss you could feel him towering over you, power still in his stance. You broke away from the kiss.

“You don’t get to be in charge anymore.” You pulled his hands off your face and pushed him against the door returning your lips to his.

“Pick me up.” You managed to get out in between breaths. He groaned into the kiss picking you up. Now it was you that towered over him. Using his neck as support you ground your body onto his abs before giving him more directions. Trying to get any sense of affection he could, he placed sloppy kisses on your neck, causing you to throw your head back as your body was taken over by lust.

“I didn’t- say- you could do that.” You grabbed the hair at the nape of his neck pulling him away and bringing yourself back.

“Walk to the couch.”

Namjoon walked over to the couch with you still in his arms. He stopped in front of the furniture, waiting for his instructions. You slowly moved your mouth along his collarbone up to his ear, trailing your hot breath along the way.

“You’re so good, baby… now sit.” Your bodies fell against the black suede couch. You pulled the giant shirt off of your body and went back to kissing any of his exposed skin you could. Large hands began to dance across the waistband of your borrowed boxers. Coming to a harsh stop your dark eyes met Namjoon’s as you yanked his hands off your body.

“Shirt off. Now.” You watched in awe as his long torso was exposed. You slid off of his lap and began kissing along his waistband, his legs opening in response. Teasing him you moved up his chest, leaving the area that needed your attention the most. You could feel his hard-on against your exposed breast as you left hickeys on his chest. Noticing that, you stood up and bent over so your face was back in front of his.

“Odd of you to assume that you would get some before I got mine. Oh, my sweet boy.” You clutched his jaw in your hand bringing him nose to nose.

“Namjoon baby? Lay down.”

He shifted his body on the couch barely fitting but it was good enough. You began to strip yourself of the boxers, realizing that you didn’t even have your own underwear on.

“Look at Joon doing my work for me.” You taunted, before randomly tossing the boxers somewhere in the living room. The cool air hit your core making you notice how aroused you actually were.

“Mmm Namjoon baby I need you to show me how fast your mouth can actually move. Can you do that for me?”

Not even giving you a chance to say the last word he answered in an instant.

“Of course baby.”

“Good.” You crawled on top of his face planting each knee on the sides of his head lowering yourself onto his mouth. The relief of tension was instant as he moved his mouth harmoniously against your heat, his tongue painting stripes across your folds and his lips sucking on your sweet spot.

“Hold me.” You commanded and his hands gripped your thick thighs bringing you down further on to his mouth. His face was completely buried inside you as you rocked on top of him begging for more. You grabbed onto his honey locks, as the pleasure was so intense you knew it wouldn't be long before you’d try and run from it.

“How do I taste baby? Am I good?” You asked tauntingly. His response was lost, muffling against you, causing vibrations to push you further.

Closer and closer to the edge you were pushed as he showed off his talented mouth.

“Keep going baby I’m so close.” You whimpered, praising his talents. His fingers dug into your thighs as he quickened his pace. A shock was delivered throughout your body suddenly, sending you to an enamored release.

You slid off of him your legs shaking as you stood.

“Baby you’re so hard. Want to take these off?” You pulled at the waistband off his sweatpants, knowing they were the only thing he had on. He nodded, a look of intense need in his eyes.

“Okay. Strip.” His body slithered as he shimmied off his pants not getting off of the couch. His dick sprang free as he rid himself of the pants, precum already dripping down the head.

“You got that turned on from me riding your face baby? Oh, c’mere.” You sat on his lap ignoring his hard-on, but bringing him into a sloppy open-mouthed kiss, not caring if he touched you with or without permission at this point. Lost in the moment you forgot that you never even relieved him. Not that you cared. Dry humping his pelvis you felt his dick brush against your ass reminding you that he was still hard.

“Stop.” You commanded sternly before getting off of him.

You held on to his broad shoulder as you climbed on top of him once again hovering above his dick. Digging your nails into his shoulder you stabilized yourself controlling your speed as you slid onto him agonizingly slow.

“Mmm you feel so good inside of me Joon.” You rotated your hips on him even slower than before, offering him the slightest amount of pleasure.

“Faster, please.” He groaned into your neck.

“Anything for you baby.” Picking up your pace your thighs began to burn, knowing you were going to cum again. How could you not? His hands slid from your thighs up to your back pulling your body closer to his, pressing you chest to chest. The close proximity caused your bouncing to slow down to a grind, pushing you both higher than before. You felt the absence of one of his hands from your back but soon felt it in between your thighs, his thumb massaging your clit causing you to lose focus. He took over and flipped you on to your back, switching positions to pound into you from behind.

“Make me cum again Namjoon.” You cried out, gripping the suede under you in tight fists. He quickened his pace, going at a much better rhythm than you were at. It wasn’t long before you were a moaning mess underneath him, quickly falling apart with him following suit seconds after you releasing into you. He released a long drawn out groan before twitching inside of you. His body weight fell on top of you as he collapsed, his sweaty skin flush with yours. Your hands moved up to his hair combing through it.

“See what happens when you let go and let me take charge Namjoon?”

Written by Jo

[smoresmoresmore]

Will edit later

I just have to say

I was possibly exposed to Rabies and came to Tumblr for help and advice and was THOROUGHLY AND DISTURBINGLY DISAPPOINTED WITH THE RABIES TAG.

Omg

I was convinced I was going to die and searching anything Rabies related was UNHELPFUL AF. Not judging but y'all did not help lol.

Very long explanation of why I thought I was going to die:

Waking up to a bat (2 nights in a row) is not automatic cause to assume you will die but it is, I found out after talking to the Dept. Of Agriculture and their Epidemiologist, an immediate cause to go straight to the ER and get shot up with the vaccine and immunoglobulin so you DON'T POTENTIALLY DIE. It is not something the doctors can argue against and it is not something you should postpone. Especially since I was "under the influence" (Nyquil) at the time and even less likely to notice if I had gotten scratched or bitten. My being unaware was the key point in the urgency of going to the ER.

The ER doc was highly annoyed I knew just what to say ("I woke up with a bat in my face") and he grumpily admitted he was bound to follow CDC protocol. His annoyance was so obvious he repeatedly told me how unlikely it was I was bit and explained how "intense" the shots would be. I assume he felt the medicine could be put to better use on someone who was 100% sure and/or was injured. When I asked him what would happen to me if I WAS bitten and didn't get the shot like he wanted, he sighed and admitted "Well, you die."

"Well, shoot me up, doc!"

That night I got 7 shots. One in my arm, which hurt so bad--I guess because my nurse was new and may habe gone too deep because the subsequent shots I have gotten in the same arm haven't been anywhere near as painful-- and 6 in my buttcheeks. 3 in each.

Waking up from my Nyquil coma to a bat in my face was not fun. I had never related to those movie scenes of people screaming and running around afraid if bats. But jessuz. They are fast. And this one was swooping around my living room and deliberately getting super close to me. I had to hide under my blanket and in my fevered state this made me sweat. Trying to herd it to my now opened windows did not help. I tried to call police, fireman andnanimal control; the 1st two were useless and the 3rd was not open at 1am.

Eventually I reached out to my townie facebook group and got advice. White towels attract them. Or make it dark and quiet and hide--I did this as I was not going to run around with a towel in my undies like that video--which worked. 2 very concerned people urged me to go to a doctor.

"You say you have flu-like symptoms and a constant fever and you sleep in that room a lot. You really need to go to the ER. Rabies is so dangerous."

And after 2 nights of dealing with bats and my fever spiking right around the time they show up, I existed in a dark hole of stress. So much so that the second morning I woke up to my hand twitching erratically and my thumb muscle spasming and I started bawling. I had already gotten the shots the day before so I knew if I encountered anything rabid I should be okish (I still had 3 more to go before I was fully protected) but now, with my glitchy hand, I was panicking about "WHAT IF I ALREADY HAD IT?!"

Urgent Care had ruled out Strep twice for my odd sickness and had assured me I have a random virus and to just stay in bed for a few days. Which I had been doing faithfully, before getting bored and moving to my livingroom nest. I like to sleep in there a lot and often do when the weather is nice. I just made sure to drink water and tea and get sunlight and all the things. Including Nyquil. But my fevers were getting worse. I was feeling like crap. And now what we all assumed to be A Normal Virus was morphing into my worst nightmare.

Probably egged on by 101 temperatures, I called around until someone was willing to explaon to me whether I was dying or not. Getting told "You'll be fine. It is SO RARE," did not calm me down. I needed someone to explain how the long incubation period (months to a year) and symptoms (flu like, emotional, twitchy) did not match me.

I slept in that room on accident and on purpose since moving in almost 9 months ago. I'm a heavy sleeper and don't wake up easily. Iffff I had been bitten during one of my all-nighters doing math homework or essay writing, it makes sense I would suddenly get a random "virus" that isn't going away. I had it all worked out in my head. I was getting headaches in the sun and stores. I forced myself outside and out and about when I felt ok because fuck it if I was going to let this be a symptom I had. I was getting anxious in the shower but, knowing fear of water was a symptom, I forced myself to stay in it. (Turns out my paranoia was right. The water was starting to be hard and my skin was breaking out. It is very annoying. The timing was just horrendous)

All the doctors and nurses kindly told me I was safe since I had started the shots but no one had an answer for me when I asked if they helped if I hadddd it already. They weren't sure. The amount of information they have or are willing to share is astonishingly low.

After 2 hours of phone tag I was finallly able to get an appointment with an Infectious Disease Doctor. She told me that if I did have it there was no real evidence about the vaccine helping, especially since I had only had the first dose at that point. She told me it would be fast though and they couldn't tell until "you're foaming at the mouth." She asked to look in my mouth and when I told her about my drooliness she said to let her know if it got worse. She asked about my hand. I told her. She asked about numbness and I freaked cuz my arm did go numb at one point.

I askwd her about tests. I had read that there were a few--spinal fluid, spit, blood--that were not really reliable. She said since I had the vaccine and immunoglobulin in my system already they would show up and it would be pointless.

My only option was to wait. And chill. And try not to dwell on the fact that there is no answer or cure or way to find out if I should plan my trip to Oregon and die or if I should allow my boyfriend to visit me.

He was firmly in the You Don't Have Rabies camp and came over anyway to feed me soup and hang out. But I refused to kiss him. It made him very sad and probably extremely exasperated.

My boss was so done with me when he asked if I could come in the next day. "Sasha. You cannot have Rabies. Just come to work. You'll be fine." And I realized how crazy I sounded but I still warned all my coworkers.

Anyway, my lowgrade fever continued, my twitchiness stopped, my drooling stopped, my water was hard so I avoided the shower but cleaned my good bits, and once I doubled up my water intake my headaches disappeared. I went into a mini death spiral for a day but decided to force myself into believing I was fine.

When I started getting confused and fainty, I bought Iron supplements. When I started getting angry and anxious, I called my friends and got distracted. When it was time to get another shot, I made sure to update everyone of the weirdness Just In Case.

One nurse took the time to sit me down and listwn. That's really all I needed since no one had answers. I just needed my mind soothed and concerns not dismissed. She couldn't explain the muscle spasm but could definitely see why I was freaking out. She was the one who tested me for peace of mind. She looked into Lyme disease. She found my anemia. She explained that the amount of time that had elapsed made her sure I was going to be ok. She had watched people die in Africa from this and shw said it happens So Fast it is tragic. I would not be able to organize a trip to Oregon to die. I would become incoherent and slip away within days.

That was what I needed. A timeframe. A legit explanation of what it looks like and how it happens. And why I don't fit. This whole time I had been wondering how to tell my friends. Whether I could write all their numbers down in case I couldnt function enough to call them or remember my phone password. I was planning on cleaning my apartment so good so the landlord couldn't bash me when I was bouncing off the walls and hissing at him. I was deciding who I really needed to contact and who I could live without wasting breath on. I was planning a goodbye party. I told all 3 of my lovers ("´hey, I have this thing there is no real test for while you're alive but there is once you die so you can't get tested, and you may have it so got get shot up but no one is sure if that will help much," but I did tell them and it was hilarious to them. My favorite response being "RIP" and "F") And this all had put me in such a dark place that, coupled with a few shitty days at work with my bully of a manager, I also asked for a psych person to visit me after the Rabies shot.

After her talk I was like, oh. Thank godddd. And kinda annoyed at having to wait an extra hour in the ER for a talk that could wait til morning. But I chatted with rhem and asked for referral to a shrink since this had just highlighted how much I need help with my anxiety. Especially since the temporary issue of Rabies was being resolved but my cruel manager was still going to exist now that I was going to survive this beef with nature. It was nice to think of that way "my rabies beef is getting cooked" and the pscyh lady got me help. So that was nice. I just mainly needed to get healthy again so I could

I mean. Almostbarelybutnotreally facing a cruel death was a great way to look at life and reflect on some things. There are messes I am not at fault for, messes I avoid that I shouldn't, people and things I value and the objects that matter to me more than others for ridiculous reasons. I was so grateful to the staff for putting up with me. And for you for reading.

All of this just to say

Circle circle dot dot

Soon I get my last Rabies Shot

[vikingwitchling]

Power Play

Freya woke with a violent gasp. It had been a nightmare. Just a nightmare, she thought, pressing a hand to her clammy chest, feeling her heart race. It had been so terrifying, and then...all gone at the moment of her awakening. She couldn't remember it. But she could still feel it, clinging to her. 

Trembling, the witch slipped from her bed and crossed the floor, her white nightgown brushing against her bare feet. She poured herself a glass of water from the jug she had filled a few hours earlier, drinking tentatively, attempting to conjure the memories of her nightmare, but failed. Freya rarely experienced nightmares. Unless they were visions of the future to come.

The sound of her brother's voice passing outside her door caught her attention. He was not alone. Freya put her glass down and opened the door, peering outside to see what was going on. But the hallway was empty. They had just rounded the corner to Niklaus' study. Abandoning her bedroom, Freya followed, stopping just outside the open doorway to where Niklaus and his progeny, Marcel, were sitting. She kept to the shadows. Unseen. Unheard. 

"Davina's informed me three witches have gone missing in the last two months," Marcel said.

"And?" Klaus raised an inquisitive eyebrow, his long fingers knitted together beneath his chin.

"And she's asking for help to find them. Apparently her usual locator spells ain't doin' it."

"What does she suppose I would do about it?"

"Not you," Marcel said, a wry smile twitching at the corners of his lips. "Your sister. She wants Freya."

Silence. Niklaus seemed to consider his friend's words. "Then why are you speaking with me? I'm not my sister's keeper."

"Really? 'Cause my experience tells me otherwise." 

Another pause. A sneer making its way onto Niklaus's face. "Are you planning to shag her? To marry her? To steal her away?"

Freya didn't want to hear anymore. Her brother could be so crude. "That's enough, Niklaus," she said, stepping to through the open doorway and into the light. "Marcel, what can I do?"

 Marcel rose from his chair, looking surprised by her presence. Niklaus didn't look surprised at all. Quite the contrary, he seemed to have known his older sister were there all along. 

 "Meet with Davina," Marcel said. "I'm sure she can give you the details better than I."

 "Why didn't she come here herself?" Klaus asked in a casual tone, leaning back in his chair.

Marcel turned to look at him. "She ain't all that fond of you, Klaus. Any of you, really, after the stunt you pulled with her resurrection spell. But she's desperate." He turned his gaze back to Freya. "Will you come?"

Freya nodded. She didn't like the thought of witches going missing. Even if they were not her kin or responsibility. Hopefully, it would just turn out to be some misunderstanding. "I will. Tomorrow, at noon. Your place?"

Marcel nodded curtly, and Freya turned to leave again. She paused briefly in the doorway. "Oh, if I am to perform any kind of locator magic I will need a personal item from each of the missing. Tell your friend?"

 ---

The next day just before noon, Freya approached Marcel’s quarters as planned, her conversation with Niklaus earlier that morning still fresh in her mind.

“Why do you care about a few lost witches? They are nothing to you,” he had said whilst pouring her coffee.

Freya had to smile, a smile without humour. It was exactly the attitude she had come to expect from her younger brother. A thousand years of cruelty given and taken had made him a hard man, who rarely served anything but his own ambition and pleasure.

“I wish to help because it’s the right thing to do,” Freya told him, tearing a piece off her croissant and popped it in her mouth. She didn’t speak again until she had finished chewing. “What if it was Hope missing. Wouldn’t you want whatever help you could get to find her?”

“No,” Klaus said, his cold eyes narrowing. “I would find her myself. I wouldn’t fail.”

Such arrogance, yet Freya hoped she would never get to prove her brother wrong in this instance. She climbed the stairs to Marcel’s flat and knocked on the door, one hand clutching her bag of supplies that hung from her shoulder. Already before Marcel had opened the door, Freya could hear a cacophony of voices coming from inside. Clearly, this was not going to be a private session.

“Come in,” said Marcel once he swung the door open and stepped aside to allow her to enter. Freya did so with great caution, quickly growing uneasy under the dozen gazes that followed her every move from the moment she crossed the threshold. Most of them were women, ranging from the early forties to late eighties by the look of it. A few men remained in the background, looking sombre. Davina, their newly appointed leader, stood by the large windows, the beaming sunlight creating the illusion of a halo around her head.

“You came,” the young witch said, her dark eyes trailing over Freya’s form, from the top of her blonde head to the bottom of her boots.

“I said I would,” Freya replied, coming to a halt in the middle of the room, waiting for further instructions.

Davina didn’t smile, but her features softened a touch as she made for Marcel’s coffee table.“Three girls have gone missing,” she said. “Cecilia Monroe, Beatrice Jackson, and Elaine Cox. All young witches, all part of the Tremé Coven.”

Freya didn’t recognize the name of the said coven, but knew it had to be one of the nine covens of New Orleans that were now governed by Davina.

“Cecilia vanished last month while on her way home from band practice. Beatrice and Elaine both went missing this month, one week apart, also while leaving school-related activities.”

Freya put her bag down on the floor, frowning. The thought of children going missing made it all so much worse and explained why so many had shown up to see her work her magic. The distressed witches now surrounding her must be parents or grandparents. Maybe aunts and uncles.

“Have you talked to the police about this?” Freya asked. “They have the resources to help search, yes?”

A collective scoff rippled through the audience. “If Davina couldn’t find ‘em with her magic, no way the police is gonna manage,” one of the elderly women said, her grey eyes fixed on Freya with undeniable distrust. The others nodded and hummed in agreement.

Davina caught Freya’s arm, her voice lowered. “I’ve done all the spells and rituals I know that could help locate a missing person or object. And I’ve got the powers of the covens to help me, so I know it’s not a lack of strength. But none of them pans out. They don’t even give an indication. It’s as though I’m an ordinary human trying to make Harry Potter spells work.”

Freya didn’t understand that pop culture reference, but she could guess the meaning. Davina was not used to her spells going awry. She was a very powerful witch, especially taking her young age into consideration. However, power and knowledge were two very different things.

She turned her attention to the items laid out on the coffee table – a worn old teddy bear, a silver bracelet and a pink mobile phone. Each item had been put down with care, positioned in a neat line with a few inches space between them. Almost like something you’d find on an altar.

“Are these the girls’ belongings?” Freya asked Davina. It was an old woman who answered.

“Yes. That’s Cecilia’s bracelet, my granddaughter,” the old woman said. She had small, sharp eyes that despite her wrinkled face and hollow cheeks, flashed with life. Her long white hair was tied in a knot atop her head, giving her an extra inch of height. Her thin arms were covered in gold and silver bangles, most of them decorated by occult symbols or magical gemstones.

“I don’t much like your kin, girl,” she said, shuffling towards Freya. “But if you can find our girls, I’ll be forever in your debt. We all will.”

Freya was not looking for payment, or gratitude, really. But a small part of her enjoyed the thought of being welcomed into the warm embrace of a new coven. A group of peers who could understand her in ways her vampire siblings couldn’t.

“I will do what I can, ma’am,” Freya assured the old woman, managing a smile. “Can you tell me a little about Cecilia and the other girls? Are they friends? Do they attend the same school?” She picked up the bracelet from the table and held it in her hands, searching its energy for more information.

“Cecilia is a sophomore in high school. Bea and Elaine are still in middle school,” a new, younger woman piped up. “The girls don’t really interact much other than our monthly coven sabbaths. Sometimes we’re all together, but most of the time, especially on holidays – Samhain, Beltane, Yule…we split into three groups. The Maidens, that would be the children and teens, have their own celebrations separate from the Mothers and Crones. I think those are the only times these three girls spend time together.”

Several of the other men and women nodded their agreement to this theory.

“They wouldn’t have run off on their own,” someone called out. “They’re good girls.”

“We all know Bea was popular with the boys. Wouldn’t surprise me if she had run off with someone.”

“Watch your mouth!”

“How do we know Eva Sinclair ain’t behind all this. She’s done it before.”

Freya frowned but was otherwise unperturbed by the sudden chaos that erupted. Eva Sinclair was a former member of the Tremé Coven, who in a mad frenzy for power had kidnapped several young witches to leech of their magic. When captured, Eva had been sentenced to life in the Witch Asylum, a cottage in New Orleans were those who entered could never leave. Until Freya had broken the century-old spell upon awaking after her cursed slumber. These days, however, it was Freya’s younger sister, Rebekah, who inhabited Eva’s body.  And Rebekah would not harm young children such as these three missing girls.

“Everyone be quiet!” Davina demanded, looking exasperated and a little out of her comfort zone. “Eva Sinclair is dead. Now, please…let Freya work.”

 ---

“I don’t understand,” Freya exclaimed as Niklaus handed her a drink later that evening. “My magic has never failed me before. Never! I must have cast at least eight spells, among them the one I used to find your daughter when she as protected by a hex only a hundred powerful witches could break.”

During her stay at Marcel’s earlier that afternoon, she had exhausted her collection of locator spells with absolutely no results, and this both irked and frightened her. Fixing her gaze on the lit fireplace in her brother’s parlour, Freya’s mind ascended to new levels of anger, something that earned her momentary loss of control and made the scotch in her hand boil. She gasped in pain and dropped the glass. Niklaus caught it before it could hit the floor and put it on the mantelpiece. He watched her with amusement written all over his smug features. Apparently, to him, it was funny to see his almighty sister fail.

“You approached those spells believing to find traces of magic,” he smirked, taking a sip of his own drink. “Because they are witches.  But you forget, sister dear, that there are many other things in this world that can harm a witch. Since you last walked the earth, a new adversary has arrived.”

Freya frowned, unable to comprehend where Niklaus was leading her.

“Technology,” he whispered, draining what remained in his glass and left the room.

--- 

The abandoned power plant on Market Street appeared like a giant out of the fog as Freya's taxi neared. Created in the early twentieth century and closed down in the seventies, the plant now served as a meeting place for the youngest witches of the Treme Coven, and an occasional sleeping spot for the homeless of New Orleans. The building, despite its weathered looks, was still standing strong. Nevertheless, Freya felt uneasy about entering. 

She got out of the car after paying the incredulous driver, and told him not to wait. He drove away, shaking his head.

The previous day's efforts had been disappointing, but after a good night's sleep and a big breakfast, Freya was once again ready to continue. She had chosen to come alone for the simple reason that having an audience had disrupted her focus. Perhaps that had been the reason for her failed spells. She liked to think so, that it was just a fluke, rather than a bigger problem concerning the state of her magic.

She entered the power plant through a rusty metal door, that refused to open wide or fully close. Despite the beaming sun outside, inside was showered in gloomy darkness. The large windows had been stained with what appeared to be paint. To keep curious onlookers from peering inside, maybe?

The floor was littered with machinery parts, leftover from the power plant’s active days, as well as cigarette butts and empty beer cans. Freya swept a thick layer of dust and grime off an old chair and sat down, observing her eerie surroundings. She couldn’t see the appeal of this place, especially not as a meeting place for a coven. Freya had always preferred locations in nature for her witchcraft-purposes. It kept her grounded and closer to the elements she would call upon to aid her. But these were different times, apparently. Witches were in hiding again, afraid to be mistaken for worshippers of the dark and evil.

Freya took a deep breath, closed her eyes and said: “Show me the memories of what happened here.”

She expected to be gifted with a short, cryptic vision. Something that would be annoyingly vague, yet containing a clue to unlock the next step in her search. So when she was met with the sound of thundering footsteps and girly laughter, Freya nearly fell off her chair in surprise.

As she opened her eyes, she saw three teenage girls burst through the door and into the room, wide smiles on their faces and clothes dripping wet from rain. Though they all looked perfectly lifelike, there was something about their colouring that helped Freya realize they were not really here. They were not ghosts either, but echoes.

The three girls dropped their bags and backpacks to the floor, shaking water out of their hair, chatting amongst themselves of how unlucky they had been to be caught in the sudden rainstorm. After a minute, they settled on the floor in a circle.

“Did you bring it?” The eldest girl asked one of the other two.

“Of course, Cece,” the girl in question replied, fishing a closed jar filled with water from her bag. She put it on the floor between them and unscrewed the lid. “I hope we can still do it. I mean, I’ve been practising, but it’s not easy with mom looking over my shoulder at all times. She even makes me journal every time I use magic. She says it’ll help me become responsible and take my powers seriously. So I won’t misuse them. Like she thinks I’m going to use my magic to go shoplifting or something.”

The other two giggled.

“I know, Bea” the girl named Cece said. “Their rules are getting out of hand. How do they expect us to learn if we’re not allowed to do spells without their supervision?”

“Well, that’s why we’re here,” the third girl chimed in, nodding her head at the jar. “Shall we?”

 The three girls joined hands and set their sights on the jar, slowly chanting the same Latin command over and over until, finally, the water ignited and turned to flames. They squealed and cheered, breaking their link and holding out their hands towards the warming fire they had created.

This turned out to be the first of a handful of spells the girls would perform during their session. Freya watched in perfect silence as the three toyed and experimented with what little magic they had learned, floating pencils and feathers and changing each other’s eye colour.

Once they finished and started packing up, the chatter began again.

“So where did you tell your parents you were going?” Cece asked.

“My mom thinks I’m working on a science project with Elaine,” Bea said, winking at the third girl who turned out to be Elaine.

“Same,” said Elaine. “How about you, Cece?”

“Extra band practice,” Cece grinned mischievously. “They don’t even know I haven’t been in band for like six months.”

They laughed.

“You want to come with us back to my place, Cece?” Bea asked as she zipped up her bag. “We’re going to watch movies and eat marshmallows.”

“I’d love to, but I can’t,” Cece replied. “I have to make a diorama for history class tomorrow. Mr. Ainsley promised me extra credit if I did. And I need it, unless I want to tell the parental unit I’m close to failing. See you guys next week?”

The three girls left. Freya followed them to the door to observe further, but by then they were already gone.

Clearly, the missing girls knew each other a whole lot better than their parents realized. Was it not a coincidence then, that it was those three that had disappeared? Had they become more bold in their magical experimentation? Played with forces they could not handle? Had they summoned something dark?

At this point, it was impossible to tell. Freya decided to explore the power plant further before calling it a day. After all, if this place had been an accessory to a crime, there might still be clues lingering.

She crossed the room and started up some metal stairs leading to the second floor. They gave the illusion they were about to buckle at any moment, but they carried Freya all the way to the top where she was met by a closed door. She tried the handle and when it yielded to her advances, pushed the door open wide. Before her lay a small room equipped with broken-down computers and various other devices Freya knew nothing about. The control room?

As she stepped on through, something fell on her from above. It wasn’t all that heavy, yet it knocked Freya to the floor on her back. She had just registered that it was some kind of net before a thousand tiny fires were ignited along every inch of her skin, making her twitch violently, unable to control her movements, unable to summon enough focus for magic, unable to draw breath. She wanted to scream, but couldn’t. The pain was excruciating. All consuming. She was beyond saving, and her consciousness failed her shortly after.

---

When Freya next woke, her body ached as though she had been run over by a herd of wild horses. Her eyes screamed in protest once they opened and was met with a blinding light. Like standing in a snow-covered wasteland with the harsh light of the sun reflected everywhere you looked. Only this was not snow, nor sunlight. She was inside, laying on her back on a white tile floor. The lamps up above were merciless in their torment, and Freya forced herself to sit up simply to avert her eyes from their glare. On either side of her were the same white tiles, constructed to high walls, creating a decent sized cubicle with only one exit.

Three walls, one missing. Slowly, Freya got to her feet, trembling with every movement, her body occasionally twitching as though shocked. She stumbled towards the exit, growing more eager the closer she came, and just as she was about to step through, came crashing into a wall of glass, fuelled with electricity so strong it knocked her off her feet and back into the room. It was as though Thor himself had slammed her in the chest with his hammer. Groaning, tasting blood, Freya didn’t make a second attempt to break through the glass. She was trapped.

"Save your strength," a voice said, slightly muffled by the wall between her and the one talking. "You'll need it when they come for you. They do a lot of things that put that shock you got to shame until they figure out how your powers tick. And when they do... well, who knows if your life gets better once they do - no one from these cells ever returned. Go figure."

Freya dragged herself over to the wall, curiously examining each tile within her reach for signs of weakness. She found none.

"Who are they? What is this place?" she asked, her voice hoarse and with a slight tremor from the recent shock.

There was a burst of quiet laughter, a tired, worn sound.

"Well, they're human. Not witches, as far as I saw, and not vampires or whatever else... Maybe that's why we're here - because they're not, and we are the abominations on the face of their world."

A modern-day witch hunt? Freya briefly pondered this possibility, a bad taste rising in the back of her throat at the thought of puritans getting a second wind.

"Are there others here?" she asked, slumping against the wall in exhaustion. "Have you seen any children?"

If this was where Elaine, Cecilia and Beatrice had been taken, what were the chances they were still alive?

"Surely there are others here... somewhere. I don't know about children, I didn't see much - it's not like they take you on a tour. The only tour you get is to their torture chambers and back to your cell if you're still breathing when they're done with you for the day."

Freya swallowed thickly. The thought of those young girls being tortured was hard to bear. And she didn’t much care for the prospect of being tormented either. Of course, this only hardened her resolve to escape this place – alive and with the other prisoners in tow.

“What’s your name?” Freya asked eventually, eyeing the wall separating her from the male voice on the other side.

Before she could receive an answer, a figure approached her cell. It was man, tall and muscular, clad in a dark uniform. He looked at her for a brief moment before reaching for something by the cell door. The glass slid open with a soft hiss, and he stepped inside.

Freya had no intentions of allowing her visitor any further. She raised her hand, palm facing the man with the meaning to make his heart shrivel up and die within his chest. It was simple enough for a witch with her strength, and she had performed it many times before. But now, nothing happened.

A thrill of panic shot through her at this realization.

Freya had never utilized weapons before. She didn't have to, because she was the deadliest weapon of all. But now, her powers failing her, she wished for a sword, an axe, hell, even a penknife would do. Without any such advances, there was only one thing left to do. Freya got to her feet and as the uniformed man reached for her, lunged for him, driving her shoulder into his chest, catching him off guard and knocking him to the floor. Before she could escape through the open gate, however, another pair of arms wrapped around her from behind, pinning her hands to her sides like a straitjacket. She had been caught by someone much larger and much stronger than her. No matter how much she writhed and struggled, the muscular arms kept their vice-like hold on her body.

"We've got a feisty one," Freya's captor declared. "Best get the needle out."

The needle? What did he mean by that? What did they intend to do with a needle?

The man Freya had previously assaulted was back on his feet. He looked mildly annoyed with the current events but did not voice a complaint. Instead, he reached for a syringe tucked away in the pocket of his cargo pants. Nearing Freya, he uncapped the syringe and swiftly drove it into the side of her throat.

Freya groaned sharply, the sensation very unpleasant, bordering on painful. Almost at once, she felt her limbs become heavy with exhaustion. Her vision became blurred, her surroundings spinning as her eyelids drooped. She couldn't fight anymore. She couldn't do anything but watch in horror as a padded stretcher was wheeled into her cell, and she was lifted and placed upon it, strapped down like a mental patient. Her head lolled to the side, and as she was wheeled out into the hallway she was just able to catch a glimpse at the dark-haired man in the cell next to her before she succumbed to sleep.

 ---

“I told you not to use the sedatives unless it was an emergency.”

“She was fightin’ us pretty hard, ma’am. We—“

“You, two soldiers of the US army, failed to restrain a 120lb girl? Pathetic. Get out of my sight.”

Unfamiliar voices were what welcomed Freya as she regained consciousness. For the second time that day, she was met with a blinding light that left her unable to open her eyes fully. It wasn’t until the female voice that had spoken earlier, sounded in her ear that she realized someone was shining a flashlight in her face.

“Pupils slightly dilated, but they should return to normal once the sedatives are out of the subject’s system.”

Freya groaned in objection, feeling a strong urge to swat the torch out of her line of sight, only to find her hands were tightly fastened at her sides.

“Oh, good, you’re awake!” The female voice said. There was a click of a switch being flicked, and the bright light vanished.

Blinking furiously, Freya’s eyes finally adjusted. A pale redhead in her mid-forties was standing over her, smiling serenely as though she was greeting a loved one for a tea party. She wore a white coat upon which the name Marcia Caldwell, M.D. was embroidered just above her heart.

“I’m sure you’re scared and confused and wondering what is going on, but I assure you, as long as you co-operate, everything will be fine,” Dr Caldwell continued, brushing a stray lock of hair from Freya’s forehead.

Freya was indeed confused and a little frightened. She had a lot of questions that needed answering, but at the present moment she was unable to say much at all. Her mind was still foggy and unfocused from whatever substance had been injected into her veins earlier, and it was all she could do to remain awake and somewhat alert.

“Now you just relax while I take your vitals,” the doctor said, “And when you feel more awake we can have a chat.”

She lifted the stethoscope from around her neck and put it on, lowering the cleavage of Freya’s shirt to gain access to her chest. She listened intently for what seemed like almost a full minute before she finally withdrew.

“Heart rate is stable,” she muttered into a small device Freya recognized as a voice recorder. “No anomalies.”

The doctor shuffled about, and soon something was clamped down on Freya’s middle finger. It didn’t hurt, but it was unpleasant nonetheless. She tried to turn her head enough to see what Dr Caldwell was doing, but a strap wrapped tightly about her neck hindered her from moving too much.

After a few moments, the device was removed, and the doctor muttered into her recorder again.

“Pulse: 75. Lower than expected, considering…” she shot a look at Freya, seemed to think better of what she had intended to say and continued. “Oxygen levels: 98.”

She didn’t make a comment to explain whether those numbers were good or not. Freya, who had never been to a doctor before in her life, had no idea.

“Let’s take your blood pressure. You’re going to feel a tightening in your arm, but it will only last for a minute or so.”

Dr Caldwell wrapped a cuff about Freya’s upper arm. It was attached to a small pump she started squeezing as soon as she had pressed her stethoscope just above the crevice of Freya’s cuffed arm. The cuff filled with air and began to strain. Again, the procedure wasn’t painful, but it felt as though her arm was slowly losing circulation.

“BP 120/80. Excellent!” Dr Caldwell exclaimed after a while, looking down on Freya and positively beaming.

“Lastly, we’ll take some blood tests and then you can return to your room.”

Room? Cell was more like it. Prison of torment.

“What…What are you…going to do with it?” Freya managed to croak, unable to keep the concern out of her voice as the doctor disappeared across the room with three vials of her blood. She didn’t like this at all. Blood was power. Especially her blood. And she was reluctant to let it go.

“Oh, we’ll just analyze it. Make sure you’re healthy,” Dr Caldwell replied as she returned to Freya’s bed. “Of course, thanks to the two brutes who escorted you here, and their fondness for sedatives, we may have to redo the tests at a later time. It can compromise the results, you see. Personally, I don’t think they should be authorized to carry such strong medication, but the boss says otherwise.” She sighed heavily as if this was causing her an inordinate amount of trouble.

“Now, can you tell me your name, sweetheart?” she continued, a friendly smile Freya didn’t trust spreading on her face.

Freya didn’t reply. She simply stared back at the woman with increasing defiance.

“Don’t want to talk, huh? That’s okay,” the doctor said, making a note on a clipboard. “You’ll just be Subject 28 for now.”

Why 28, Freya wondered. Did that mean she was the 28th individual to have been captured? All the other cells she had seen were empty. Except for the one with the male witch. Had 26 witches before her, come here and died? It was a sickening thought.

As Freya was wheeled back to her cell, she made certain to keep her head turned, facing the row of empty cubicles until she caught another glimpse of her fellow prisoner. He was young, perhaps in his early twenties, and he was strikingly handsome. Though it seemed some of the mischief that may have once sparkled in his eyes was dulled. How many tests had he been through? What kind of tests? He had mentioned torture. Freya was certain she would find out for herself soon enough.

---

The guards dropped Freya on the cold floor of her cell, seemingly unconcerned when her head hit the hard surface. She winced and tried to sit up, determined to give her magic another try, but by the time she had managed to get herself in a somewhat upright position, the guards were gone. The man in the next cell appeared to have been sleeping when she passed. At least, he had been lying flat on his back with both arms tucked beneath his head. If this sedative-business is a daily routine here, Freya thought, then she could not blame him for resting despite the vulnerable position he was putting himself in. She could barely keep her eyes open herself.

“Hey. Are you awake?” Freya called softly when she was absolutely certain their cell block as empty. “What’s your name? And what has happened to my powers?”

A faint groan. "Now I am. Your powers are with you, just dormant. Sedated. When all you wanna do is sleep or die at last, magic can't do much. You need strength and emotions to make it work. Their shots take it away." There was a pause with a faint shuffle - he might be sitting up or changing position. "Name's Kai."

Freya reached for the side of her neck, fingertips searching for that sore spot of skin the needle had entered sometime earlier. It made sense, she supposed, that the substance that had knocked her out also dampened her powers. But to make them disappear completely? Even as her body recovered? It was worrying, especially if the effect was permanent.

“Kai...” Freya repeated softly. “I’m Freya.” She scooted along the floor until she neared that dreaded electrified window, careful not to make any contact yet attempting to peer down the corridor and around the corners.

“I was unconscious when they brought me in,” she said. “Do you know which direction the exit is located?”

"Direction wouldn't matter if we had our magic up and running. Or maybe you already have? That'd make you the first one lucky like that."

"I've got nothing," Freya admitted, moving back from the glass as a guard passed by. "But I don't plan on letting them subdue me another time."

He laughed. A rueful but hearty laugh. "Oh, honey, you wouldn't believe how many times I told myself the very same thing."

Freya’s heart sank. She wanted to tell him: “Well, I’m special”, but decided to put her arrogance away for now. Her magic had failed her for the first time ever, and this was no time for her usual self-assurance. “How long until you stopped trying?”

He gave a bitter chuckle. "Who said I did? I might as well lie down and die then, but oh wait, no, they won't let me die. Life's a bitch. Sometimes it makes you live."

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Freya muttered under her breath, having had her fair share of experience in that particular area. “How often do they come and take you to see Dr Caldwell?”

"Gee, I lost count," Kai said with a little bitter laugh. "And the funny part is, you can't tell time in here. So, who knows how often that happens? Then there's pain, heavy head, jumbled thoughts and no will to live, so there's absolutely no way to keep any systematic track of it." He went silent for a while, then added: "I guess it only stops when there's nothing else they can get out of you. If they find you don't work for them - you get a pass out of here. Probably in a box, 'cause," another laugh, "look around. No one else is here except for ghosts. Sometimes I think I'm one myself." A pause. "Maybe I am."

That was the last the two of them spoke for a very long time. How long exactly, Freya did not know. There were no windows or skylights to help her determine whether night had fallen or if the sun was still out, yet she found her own way of separating night from day. The stretches of time when the hallway outside her cell would be frequented by people in lab-coats and guards in pairs, that was daytime. It had to be. Night was quieter. She rarely saw anyone then, but she was certain there were guards close by. Just in case.

Freya’s determination to fight her captors dwindled away at the same time the hunger pains set in. She had experienced true starvation before while on the run from Dahlia, but at least then she had been free to move around. Not confined to the same square room of white tiles and bright lights that never went out. Those damn lights.

When a slot in the back wall finally opened, and a tray of food was pushed through, Freya could barely stop herself from pouncing. She already had the bowl of porridge cupped in her hands, when shuffling sounds from next door reminded her of Kai’s presence. He was eating, too. Greedily, judging from the sound. Freya couldn’t blame him. Who knew how long it had been since he last had a decent meal?

Still, the thought of him brought back the memory of his previous words.

“Sedatives. Their shots take your magic away.”

The warm, sweet porridge suddenly lost some of its appeal. What if the sedatives weren’t limited to injections? What it...?  

In a flash of anger, Freya hurled the bowl at the glass pane keeping her prisoner. She immediately regretted it. The electric barrier did its job well. The scent of burned plastic quickly spread through the room, making her insides contract with nausea.

---

Someone was screaming. A scream that could chill anyone to the bone, giving the illusion invisible insects were crawling upon one’s skin. It was a terrible sound of agony, and desperation for relief. Freya did not realize until much later, that the cry produced was hers.

“So, you see, sir. The serum I have concocted – Serum 394 – is very effective. The subject was given her last dose yesterday, and it is still keeping her magic at bay. We have staged a number of various scenarios that will most often summon a witch’s need for self-defence: anger, sorrow, fear, and of course, as you’ve just witnessed, pain. The latter has proved most efficient. Through these tests, I have been able to modify the serum, strengthen it, so much so it could be days until its effects wear off.”

Freya was only able to identify Dr Caldwell by her flaming red hair. She floated in and out of Freya’s vision, along with a man in a suit she had never seen before. The room beyond them appeared only as a white wall, unable to capture her attention enough for details to emerge. She was back in the examination quarters, strapped to her gurney. Her entire body was shivering. A burning pain had taken hold of her left hand. Her head lolled to the side and after what seemed an eternity, Freya’s hazy vision settled on the source of her agony. She screamed once more. No one seemed to notice.

“I don’t pay you to suppress their magic!” The man in the suit was speaking now, angrily. “You are supposed to find a way to use their powers for our benefit, transfer it to our own agents.”

Freya’s hand was unrecognisable, pinned down by a thick leather strap away from her body, still attached to her arm by bone, sinew and muscle that were all visible through the deep wound. The skin that remained seemed to have bubbled like lava, angry and red and had now settled, cooled down in uneven rivulets. The pain continued to be excruciating, so badly she could barely register the people watching her like some sort of art project.

“And instead you’ve made yourself a little burrow, stolen close to three dozen US witches with the power we seek, and you waste them on stunts like this. Playing with acid and knives and needles.” Again it was the man speaking. “I don’t care what you do in your spare-time, Caldwell, but if this research of yours don’t yield results, you will be replaced.”

Freya tried to move her fingers, searching for the slightest of twitches. They remained still.

“Yes, sir,” Dr Caldwell’s voice replied, humble and frightened.

“I want to see what someone like her can do if forced,” the male continued slowly. His shadow fell onto Freya’s body as he moved closer. She ignored it. “Make her perform.”

 Dr Caldwell hesitated. “But, sir, as I explained earlier...Serum 394 is still in this subject’s system. It would be impossible for her to practise magic right now.”

Freya’s eyes watered with tears as she continued to examine her deformed hand. To her audience, this may have appeared to be a reaction to the pain or the loss of a body part, and to a certain degree, it was. She didn’t like to consider herself a vain woman, but now, faced with the prospect of not being...whole...Freya found herself worrying. 

And still, it was not these concerns that played the biggest part in her watery gaze, but rather a deep concentration that attempted to settle upon her hand. The doctor’s machines may not have been able to pick up on the subtle signs, but Freya knew better. No matter how deeply her magic was buried at the present moment, it was still there, and at the height of her agony some minutes ago, she had felt it stirring.

[generalkenobi22]

Fic: as iron sharpens iron (Burn Notice) - 4K words & counting

SUMMARY: Somewhere along the way, at one point or another, Madeline tells them, “The three of you need to stick together.”

And that, more or less, is what they do.

So I know Burn Notice Week isn’t for a few weeks, but my work schedule is insane, and while I had a rare day off and moment to post, I seized it. More chapters will follow (one for each season) eventually. But for now, please enjoy the first part of as iron sharpens iron.

Can also be found on AO3.

————————————

Though one may be overpowered, Two can easily defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.

—Ecclesiastes 4:12, NIV

—————————————

Somewhere along the way, at one point or another, Madeline tells them, "The three of you need to stick together."

And that, more or less, is what they do.

—

Even before he opens his eyes, Michael just...knows he's in Miami. Besides the humidity (he can feel the sweat pooling at his lower back) and the brilliant sunlight pouring through...wherever it's pouring in from (caves set high in the mountains of Afghanistan don't usually get a lot of natural light), he can hear the faint trace of calypso music coming in from outside.

So he doesn't actually need Fi to kick him with what feels like an especially sharp boot, but she takes it upon herself to do so anyway. Not that he knows it's her immediately. No, that little realization doesn't occur until after he momentarily blacks out from the pain (she was always a great markswoman, so it only makes sense that her foot connects directly to every single one of his cracked ribs) and before his head promptly begins pounding.

When he does finally see her (and hear her—he'd recognize that Irish brogue anywhere), it's...a lot. Especially since he halfway thought he would never see her again. Besides cosmetics (her hair's lighter, no bangs—she's tanner, too), she looks the same as she did the last time they were...together. And now she's here, in the flesh, complaining that he still has her listed as his emergency contact (he knew there was something else he needed to submit to H.R. when he last updated his W-4). It's equal parts comforting and completely unnerving.

There are countless questions running through his mind as he struggles to sit upright (who burned him, how can he contact his handler, is Fi still mad that he left, etc.?), but at least one of them is answered when Fi cheerfully admits that she contacted his mother.

Welcome to Miami.

—

Soon after, she ditches the accent. Buys a whole new wardrobe.

From a tactical standpoint, it makes sense—using camouflage to blend into your surroundings makes you a harder target to spot.

From a personal standpoint, it's still—well, she's—the whole thing is...it's a lot.

—

Sam Axe is what would happen if Magnum, P.I. ever did a reunion special where Magnum—a few decades older and well into retirement—started mooching off every widow and bored housewife in Oahu. And yet, unlike Magnum, with Sam it's a whole lot less grating and more...well, endearing.

With the exception of Fi (though even that might be stretching it at this point), he no longer has a secure network of people he trusts. Most of them, he assumes, went up in smoke alongside his job and identity the moment his burn notice was issued. That said, it's nice to see the familiar face of an old friend in the midst of it all.

Even if that friend sticks him with the bar tab when all he ordered was water.

—

It's practically an ambush, all things considered.

When Sam mentions his money laundering contact, Barry, and follows it up with, "We have to bring you up to speed, brother," Michael assumes he means an in-person introduction.

And it is, for all intents and purposes, an in-person introduction when Michael meets up with the two at Carlito's the next day...

But mostly, it's an ambush.

"So you're tellin' me Mike was absent for the whole dot-com boom?" Barry asks, as if Michael isn't sitting right there next to him. He's staring at Michael like he's the most fascinating installation at the Peréz Art Museum.

Sam, on the other hand, keeps looking at him with an almost insulting amount of pity. "'fraid so," he admits miserably, draining the last of his mojito. "Although he wasn't really absent, per se, just swamped with the whole covert black ops—"

"Sam," Michael cuts in, smile strained. "How about we avoid divulging classified intel to the stranger with the movie villain goatee I just met?" He looks Barry over once and holds up his hands placatingly. "No—well, some offense."

Barry frowns. "Some taken."

"Listen, Mikey, Barry's practically family," Sam says as he signals for the waitress to bring him a refill.

"Well," Barry clarifies, "estranged at best."

"Sure, fine." Sam redirects his attention back to Michael. "The point is: now that you're back in Miami, you have to be able to talk about non-job related topics. And that's pretty tough when you're not up to date on the last decade of popular culture."

Michael shifts uncomfortably. "I'm cultured," he insists, looking between both Sam and Barry. "For instance, the 2000 election? Here in Florida, there were hanging chads and—" Off their pained expressions, he switches tactics, having to dig deeper. "What about...?" He brightens. "J-Lo! She's still considered popular, right?"

Sam chuckles. "Not for the same reason you're thinking, Mike."

The waitress comes by with their drinks. Sam thanks her—his concluding wink almost subtle—but Barry looks like he might be sick.

"So, like...no American Idol?" he wants to know, his tone taking on an edge of urgency. "No Brangelina?" Michael shakes his head, wondering idly if Barry has started speaking Spanish somehow. "What about the Hilton twins? Or, even, Tom Cruise?"

"Wait, yes! He's the, uh, Top Gun guy."

"He was the Top Gun guy," Sam corrects. "Now he's just crazy."

Barry scrubs a hand over his face before downing his cocktail in one go. "I don't know, Sam. This is a much bigger job than you let on. I mean, I'm gonna have to clear my appointments for the day," he points out wearily, "and then I'm gonna have to deal with pissed off clients—wealthy and powerful pissed off clients."

Sam brushes him off. "Barry, this is for a worthy cause." He gestures over to Michael. "I mean, look at him!"

"I'm sitting right here," Michael reminds them through gritted teeth.

Ignoring him, Barry sighs and pulls his Blackberry out. Within seconds, he's shot out a half dozen texts containing haphazard apologies for the cancellations. "Fine," he relents. "Let's start with the basics."

"And make sure we touch on the 'Phins," Sam insists. "The last player Mike could name was Marino, and he hasn't been with the team since he retired in '99. It's embarrassing."

Michael emits a strangled sound of protest before he lets his head drop to the table with a soft, defeated thud.

—

No one is more surprised than Fi when Madeline, of all people, calls to invite her to play poker with her and some of the ladies from the neighborhood only a few short weeks after she makes the move to Miami permanent. With the exception of her sister, Claire, Fi has never really had many female friends. Not for lack of interest or trying, certainly, but the job does tend to have a frustratingly imbalanced male-to-female ratio.

So, obviously, she says yes. After all, it's not as though she could possibly decline. Not when Madeline had ended their phone call with an incredibly touching: "Fiona, honey, you're welcome over any time." And especially not when she can provide such crucial insight into Michael's early years.

In preparation, she finds the least threatening sundress she owns (A-line skirt, a floral pattern of goldenrods and peonies), and brings along a variety of snacks (surely these types of get-togethers operate like more civilized, less mind-numbingly boring stakeouts?).

When she arrives, Madeline greets her warmly with a hug (a bit of a surprise considering they've only ever spoken on the phone and haven't actually met in person before), places her snacks on the counter, and introduces her to the rest of the group. It's...nice. They're a friendly bunch: adorable retirees with a penchant for gossip and neighborhood intel that would put any spy to shame. A couple hours later, though, when she's down by nearly two hundred dollars, she has the sneaking suspicion it all may be a ruse designed to lull her into a false sense of security.

Oh, they are very good.

"So, Fiona," Evelyn asks her. She raises and throws a couple chips onto the growing pile at the center of the table. "How do you know Madeline's son?"

Fi takes in Evelyn's shockingly bright orange dye job as she thinks about how best to answer that question. Ex-girlfriend? Colleagues? Both invite their own share of difficult and obtrusive questions. She could go with "wife" (Michael would positively burst, she's sure of it), but Madeline would see right through that.

"He's my boyfriend." It's not...not true.

"How wonderful!" Madeline's other friend, Phyllis, exclaims. She has been knocking back Corona Extras like she hasn't had a spot to drink in months. "How long have the two of you been together?"

In addition to Madeline's affinity for nicotine, Evelyn seems to share her love of taking all of Fi's money. Fi folds and tosses her cards on the table.

"Oh!" she says suddenly playing at bashful and giggling. "It's—well, it's still kind of new—" Again, not...not true. "—but it feels like we've known each other forever."

She almost feels guilty at the way Madeline's face lights up, how her smile warms at her little fib. But she barely has time to dwell on it before the front door opens. When she turns around, she's met with the sight of Michael—in tan chinos and a light blue oxford—slack-jawed and cradling a casserole dish. She playfully waggles her fingers at him.

"Ma," he says carefully, only glancing at her briefly, his smile too forced to be genuine. "I thought you, me, and Fi were having dinner tonight. You said seven, right?"

Madeline brightens as she directs him and the casserole to the kitchen. "We are. Me and the girls are just finishing up." To the rest of the group, she says, "Ladies, this is my son, Michael!"

"Hey...Hi." He waves at them all awkwardly before taking the empty seat across from Fi, next to Evelyn. She shouldn't laugh, truly, but his discomfort in the face of the group's sudden enthusiasm over his distinctly male presence is palpable. She tries to hide her amusement by draining the contents of her beer bottle, but judging by the way Michael's brow darkens and his mouth practically thins into nonexistence, she is nowhere near successful.

Madeline is the last one to fold before Evelyn takes the pot. As she rakes in her winnings, Phyllis leans over toward Fi and makes it a point to say not at all quietly, "He's very handsome."

This time when she looks at Michael, unable to hide her amused grin, he smiles at Phyllis appreciatively before fixing Fi with a look of quiet desperation.

"Oh, he is!" She sighs dreamily and winks at him, relishing his discomfort only a little. He frowns back. "I'm the luckiest girl in all Miami."

—

It starts out innocently enough. Fi merely offers Sam a simple suggestion for how to properly apologize to Veronica—that unfortunate woman—yet somehow that evolves into him wanting to talk about all his "lady problems" with her.

(Seriously, that poor woman! She must be positively unwell. Perhaps she's deaf or blind? Best case scenario: she's deaf and blind, and this relationship is simply court-ordered community service outreach to the elderly.)

At first, Fi relished the thought that he picked her over Michael (who has all the emotional sensitivity of an unstable IED) to confide his most vulnerable secrets to, but it soon becomes too much. Phone calls, text messages, then phone calls and text messages. Eventually, she has to draw a line, demonstrate at least a little pride.

Plus, she's still pissed about the whole "him-costing-her-a-lot-of-money-because-he-interfered-with-her-legitimate-business-deal-with-the-Libyan-arms-dealer" thing, y'know? No one has ever accused her of letting go of a grudge too soon.

"I don't know what to tell you, Sam." She sighs dramatically as if talking to him is positively exhausting (which, it is) before she slams the trunk of her car closed, yoga mat in hand.

He blocks her path forward before she even has a chance to turn around. "Fi, you don't understand," he says desperately, and a small (fine, large) part of her finds a simple delight in his suffering. "This could be it for Veronica and me. She still hasn't forgiven me for the last job we pulled, and I—"

"Sam." Even saying his name is taking a lot of self-control at the moment. She manages to slip past him and dart across the street. To his credit, he keeps up and corners her in front of the studio. "I'm just too busy right now, and I'm going to be late." She holds up her mat pointedly and pushes past him to the front door. "So unless you want to join my Bikram yoga class, I—"

"Fine."

The little bell at the top of the door rings a second time as he follows her inside. As he not-at-all-subtly rakes his gaze over a couple of women in yoga pants on their way out, she gapes at him.

"What?" He shrugs when he catches her staring. "I told you: this is serious."

So that's how she finds herself some fifteen minutes later watching Sam—drenched through his linen slacks and hideous Hawaiian print shirt—struggling with downward facing dog on the mat right next to hers.

"Geez, Fi," he huffs, his gold chain now dangling over his chin, "you do this for fun?"

She watches as beads of sweat roll down his bright red face in rapid succession. It takes everything in her to keep a straight face.

"Why do you even pay for this?" he continues as if interrupting her meditation isn't enough. "If I wanted to exert myself in this much humidity, I'd ask my old CO to ship me back out to Kuwait, or hell, I could just as easily go outside.

It takes an immense amount of concentration for her to regain her balance (physically and spiritually) and counteract the irritation she's feeling, but she finally asks, short of snapping, "Wasn't there some...Veronica issue you wanted to discuss?"

"Fi," he says, breath haggard, "she's pissed about the car again."

She blinks as a bead of sweat hits her eye. "Well, of course she's pissed about the car." A little quieter, she hisses, "You practically blew it up!"

"I—" The instructor tells the class to transition to triangle pose just as the ventilation system switches back on, pumping more hot air into the confined space. Sam has to account for the increased sound, and the fact that her back is now to him when he clarifies, "That was for the job, and you know it, sister! It was either that, or a Czech assassin would have made mincemeat outta you, me, and Mikey."

She twists, fingers stretched out toward the ceiling. "Well, it's not about any of that for Veronica, Sam. It's...it's more like if you can't cherish her car, how could you possibly cherish her?" she explains as if it's the most obvious thing in the world (which, it is).

Sam's quiet for a moment—the instructor has them shift into chair pose—before he glances over at her. He swipes his soaked through hair out of his face. "Cherish, huh?"

She turns to him and nods, somewhat impressed that he has both made it this far in life being dense and that he hasn't passed out quite yet.

—

"So, neither of you will help me with this?"

Sam and Fi exchange a lazy glance before looking back at Michael from behind their respective sunglasses. Fi sighs dramatically. "It's not that we won't help, Michael. It's more like we..." She looks over at Sam for back up. "I want to say...can't?"

Sam laces his fingers behind his head and shrugs. "Sure, 'can't' works."

Michael throws both of them an unimpressed (and admittedly, envious) look from over his shoulder as he pauses his work on the Charger's carburetor. They're both set up in slightly rusted out poolside chairs with their feet soaking in a plastic kiddie pool that doesn't look a day younger than the early '70s. Probably some artifact from when he and Nate were younger.

He sets his 3/8" combo wrench on top of the engine. "Right, and you both can't," he probes, now leaning against the Charger, facing his two friends, as he gestures for them to continue, "because...?"

"What do you want from us, Michael?" Fi demands listlessly. He watches as she slides her bikini strap (she and Sam are both wearing bathing suits) off her right shoulder, so she can evenly apply more sunscreen. He swallows, possibly lingering longer than necessary (she's...well, it's...still a lot) before redirecting his attention anywhere else.

"Yeah," Sam agrees, snagging the tube of sunscreen out of Fi's hands, despite her protests. "You're the one that called for a debrief on the hottest day of the whole damn calendar year."

Michael pointedly ignores the rivulets of sweat soaking into his beater and, worse, the waistband of his jeans. "It's not the hottest—"

Sam cuts him off. "Historically high temperatures, Mike. I overheard your mom talking about it."

"Overheard me talking about what?"

Michael looks up, while Sam and Fi turn—almost in unison—as Madeline exits through the back door, a tray of iced tea in her hands. When neither Sam nor Fi rushes to help her (at least they're consistent, Michael thinks to himself bitterly), he walks over and helps her place the glasses on the small fold out table set up between the other two.

"Thanks, Maddie." Sam noticeably has no issue exerting himself to pick up his drink. Before he can take a single sip, however, Madeline snatches it out of his hands and replaces it with a beer. It may just be the widest Michael has ever seen Sam smile. "We were just saying how insanely hot it is today—"

"—and how only a certified sociopath would expect his dearest and most loyal friends to perform manual labor in this kind of weather," Fi finishes for him. She flashes a seemingly innocent smile at Michael from over the rim of her own glass. He responds in kind with something between a frown and a grimace.

Meanwhile, Madeline takes in his disheveled appearance. "And what happened to you?" she demands, handing him the iced tea that had previously been Sam's. He takes it, grateful. "You're soaked!"

"Yeah, I know, Ma," he says calmly, trying to restrain himself. "I've been out here fixing the Charger, but it would go a lot faster if I had some help..."

She follows his accusatory gaze back to Sam and Fiona and gasps. "Well, don't look at them, Michael!" she blanches as if he were asking them to help him bury a body, which...would not be an unreasonable scenario in his line of work. "It's hot outside!"

Michael stares up at the sky as if willing God to grant him the patience he is so quickly losing.

—

Virgil and...his mom.

—

Virgil and...his mother.

—

His own mom and...Virgil.

—

He's gonna kill him.

—

...Right after he drains a quart of bleach.

—

"He's here."

Maricruz doesn't bother looking up from her register. Their manager gave them a strict deadline for completing their cash counts today. "Who's here?

"The guy I was telling you about, the one who's in here all the time?"

Suddenly, Maricruz remembers. "Oh, yeah! The dude with all the yogurt, right?"

Her co-worker, Olivia, nods, cracking her gum in the process. "He only ever buys weird stuff, like screws and duct tape, never food—well, except for the yogurt. And, occasionally, beer." She pauses, then: "I think he might be a serial killer."

Maricruz finally looks up and watches as the man examines a box of 45-watt lightbulbs. She frowns, then turns to Olivia. "This guy?" she wants to know. "The one who dresses like some rich kid's hot, investment banker dad, who sometimes attends a lot of backyard barbecues?”

"Yes."

They pause in their conversation as Olivia rings up an elderly woman purchasing a bag of spinach and last week's People magazine. She waves goodbye to her and then once she leaves through the store's front doors, she zeroes in on her friend. "Hold up—are you saying hot people can't be serial killers?"

Maricruz rolls her eyes. "No. Duh, of course not. We both watched the same Ted Bundy documentary.

"True. Wait...are we saying Ted Bundy was hot?"

"I am not having this conversation with you."

Maricruz rings up her own customer (single mom with two toddlers, tons of sugary cereals) before looking back at Olivia. "There's no way this guy's a killer. Didn't you say he sometimes shows up with his supermodel wife?"

"Well, yeah," Olivia admits, "but, hello, ever heard of Scott and Laci Peterson?" She blows a bubble with her gum than pops it with an audible crack. "Also, for the record, I've never actually seen hot-might-be-a-serial-killer dude with a ring, so I think the supermodel's just his girlfriend.

Maricruz watches him grab a different pack of lightbulbs off the top shelf for an elderly woman behind him and sighs wistfully. "It totally figures he has a girlfriend." She stares a little longer. "I mean, serial killer or not, look at his arms."

Suddenly, Olivia clears her throat super loudly, snapping her out of her reverie. "Oh, my God, Maricruz, shutupshutup. He's coming to my lane!"

She looks over, and sure enough, the guy walks over to Olivia's lane and empties the contents of his basket onto the belt: a pack of lightbulbs, zip ties, rope, and two packs of blueberry yogurt. Olivia shoots Maricruz a look over his shoulder that seems to say, See? I told you so!

"Hi," he says with a bright, exaggerated smile, oblivious to their non-verbal conversation. It takes a moment for Olivia to recover while he digs in his pocket for his wallet and to respond back like a normal, human person.

"Welcome to Milam's Market," she says, totally using her Customer Service Voice as she rings up his items. "Did you find everything you need today?"

"Hmm?" He looks up from his phone, and the frown he was momentarily wearing transforms easily back to the smile from earlier. He snaps the phone shut and looks back up at her, somewhat sheepish. "Oh, uh, yeah. Even got a great deal on yogurt, so..."

Olivia gives him his total, and before he grabs his bags, he thanks both of them and tells them to have a great day.

As they watch him leave, Maricruz turns to Olivia. "Are we sure the supermodel is his girlfriend and not just his, like, insanely hot sister?" she asks desperately as she cranes her head to follow his exit beyond the store's double sliding doors.

Olivia nods sadly. "Yeah."

—

She tells him it's not good enough, but he doesn't know what else to say. He's never been good at this. He even has the scars from Dublin and Germany to prove it.

He feels slightly self-conscious, standing there shirtless, reminding her that they were profoundly unhappy together, nearly a decade ago. Ten years is a long time, and he's not exactly getting any younger—neither is his physique, frankly. He hasn't let himself go, by any means, but there's definitely a softness to his lower stomach that wasn't there the last time they were, uh...they last time they were...together. Fi doesn't mention it, or even really seem to mind much, however, when her foot connects with it just a few moments later.

He knows he's in trouble when his first punch accidentally lands, and she looks up at him afterward with that familiar fire in her eyes, the one that's equal parts terrifying and enticing.

He knows he's a goner when that same peculiar mix sends a jolt way down past his (grudgingly soft) gut while she deftly traces her lips along the lines of his palm.

And he definitely knows he's in way over his head when she lets him pin her to the mattress—when their eyes lock, and he anchors her face in his hand, while her hips cant slightly to meet his own. Admittedly, his self-control grounds to dust long before then, but it's only when his lips capture hers that he finally does the one thing he has wanted to do since the CIA dumped him in that trashy hotel with her all those months ago—

He finally gives in.

[freykja-blog]

weight loss

Very first somewhat of personal track record.  I come from a household of massive individuals. My father was six ft 6 inches (195cm) tall and weighed close to 300 lbs . (136 kilograms). Myself and 3 of my brothers also are about the 6 ft mark and weigh around the 260 kilos mark. I was not an awesome sportsman at school. I only began taking part in rugby in the last two several years at college As well as in the military the calendar year immediately after. Then followed a split for seven several years, right before I performed my past season. I used to be a decent head prop, and rather unbeknown to me, I wounded my base two vertebrae.  In my job I traveled a great deal, drank a whole lot, smoked quite a bit and exercised tiny. Resultantly, I gradually but certainly acquired fat. I did go to health club for two brief stints, inspired by my brother who was a championship bodybuilder. Each time I had sensible outcomes, but then my operate would transfer me, and I'd personally halt yet again. 

With the age of forty I stopped drinking, and two yrs later I finished using tobacco. And I grew to become as big like a property. My excess weight went nearly 301 pounds. I was obese, unfit and unhealthy. When my daughter advised her mom I seem like I'm nine in addition to a fifty percent months Expecting, I decided to do one thing over it And that i joined a gymnasium. Simply because I needed to vacation an extended length in really weighty website traffic, I decided to utilize the fitness center to my benefit also to journey to your gymnasium near to my operate, work out and after that go to operate. 

I did not have cash for a personal coach. Right here in SA they charge all over $200 for twelve classes. I see in the United states of america, they charge just as much as $sixty for an individual session. So I utilised a application that my brother gave me and went on a very low carbohydrate diet regime. The education plan consisted of two factors: A cardiovascular part along with a bodyweight-education aspect. The first working day, once the cardiovascular schooling, I assumed I used to be going to die. I needed to relaxation 3 times inside the 100 yards I needed to stroll  back again to my auto. But little by little but surely I got fitter, and I could run, row and cycle for longer intervals. In the beginning I misplaced fat very quickly, but just after about twenty pounds, I finished loosing body weight.

Which was the time I made a decision to employ a personal trainer. She worked out a new teaching application for me, and set me on an extremely rigorous diet regime. The condition was that I generally felt hungry, and Once i needed to do excess weight instruction, I felt weak and could not press myself to the limit. Once i complained, I didn't get a lot of sympathy, and was provided the old cliché "no ache, no get." The situation was that neither the teaching system nor the eating plan was altered to my level of Health and fitness and Power demands. As you can imagine, I cheated Along with the diet plan and did not loose any fat.

I then joined an internet based teaching, Health and fitness and diet application. First of all, a twelve-week training course expenditures up to a person week with my past coach. I was Certainly astounded with every one of the companies they offer on the net. Much more than 40 specialist instructors to get in touch with on 24 several hours a day, a lot more than 178 exercise routines demonstrated on video, a personalized food plan and training approach based upon your true level of fitness as well as a good deal much more. You'll find calculators to exercise anything from a exceptional coronary heart stage, physique mass index, for your perfect hip to Center ratio. In addition, you will find a lot more than twenty other video clips demonstrating workout routines like kickboxing, Pilates, Main teaching, aerobics and perhaps a boot camp! All no cost.

Soon after figuring out my present-day measurements, Health and fitness amount and coronary heart level, we talked about my targets and objectives, the amount I need to free above how long a period of time. My on line Physical fitness Experienced then sent me a personal schooling software and also a tailored diet plan. I learned ways to eat the best foods five periods each day and I felt powerful a brimming with Electricity. Due to the fact I are afflicted with hypertension and cholesterol, my eating plan and instruction method built provision for that and also my weak back again.

I never believe in taking diet program capsules along with other urge for food suppressants. Although they must get the job done, that's debatable, It's important to quit employing them someday. Your hunger will return and you may regain the burden missing. A person may use a little bit of a protein substitute since it is handy if you find yourself at perform and can't cook, and many nutritional vitamins and minerals, but that is all. Individually I think that just one should not unfastened a lot more than two lbs . a week, as that A great deal, coupled with the exercise routines, will cause the skin shrinking with you, and leaving you clean and unwrinkled. I also explained to my coach that I usually do not wish to look like a bodybuilder, just have an inexpensive physique. My goal was to unfastened body weight and become healthier.

Properly, I am happy to report that about the next twenty months I missing an extra forty-4 kilos, and achieved my aim fat. I'm now in good shape; do sixty minutes heavy cardiovascular education thrice weekly and resistance coaching three times every week. My hypertension and cholesterol is usually below control. Due to the guidance I been given from the online instruction and diet plan expert, I have developed a totally new lifestyle And that i am sustaining my weight.

You too can boost your fitness whenever you be a part of a good on the net Physical fitness and schooling system. They will teach you the right schooling tactics, provide you with a custom made food plan system and help you to achieve ideal Exercise.

So my vote goes to an internet based fitness, education and diet plan. They provide Substantially A great deal more than a normal particular coach and can be found for help 24/7. There is absolutely no excuse to not exercising. Begin nowadays.

Obesity has started to become prevalent all across the world. Weight-loss surgical procedure is really a are unsuccessful-Harmless treatment to achieve significant fat loss. It's improvising the life of numerous obese folks throughout the globe. Nonetheless, many people who are in enormous need of it nonetheless doesn't take into account it risky as many myths encompass it. While they could have loved the main advantages of an obesity0free lifetime, they continue combating further pounds.

Mrs. Shena Majumdar is 31 several years outdated interior designer who encountered one thing comparable. She usually had been a little chubby form her faculty days. She hardly ever minds currently being chubby, as she 'assumed' being fatty is an indication of health and fitness. She turned noticeably obese right after she was married. In the beginning, she attempted to defend her growing weight by assuming it had been as a result of her hormone amount and new food items practices. She was good that issues will recuperate as she will change with, but points failed to get as per her belief and she or he kept gaining bodyweight.

It was not Unless of course 2 several years later on when she was clinically stated as obese. It absolutely was during the maternity clinic where she sought consultation after failing to possess a purely natural conception for approximately six months. She was suggested to discover a bariatric guide and drop excess weight just before striving again. She investigated the complete phenomenon of efficient weight reduction on the Internet. She made a decision to give a make an effort to a complete-fledged healthcare therapy but 'an individual' shared their opinion that surgery could possibly make it hard for her to possess a pure conception in a while.

A horrifying canceled her appointment and as a substitute jointed a gymnasium. Even just after working out pretty really hard for six weeks, she didn't get any sizeable result. Someday she had to be carried out by her husband because of overexertion. On extensive examination, she was suggested a weight loss operation in the earliest advantage. After a session only she came to are aware that the operation would not affect her fertility in almost any way. Having said that, fat loss does improve the hormonal amount and Consequently, it could improve the chances of natural thriving conception considerably.

She underwent the operation and the outcomes were just awesome. She chooses to undergo for the laparoscopic bariatric surgical procedures and Subsequently, she was discharged rather soon. She designed a quicker Restoration and saved dropping excess weight over a time period. Even so, the health care provider advised her to look forward to a yr prior to seeking for the child yet again. Inside the calendar year she recognized many positive adjustments.

Immediately after fourteen months she all over again commenced attempting for your baby, which time she was ready to effectively conceive inside four months. She, down the road, experienced a safe pregnancy and childbirth forward. She is now leading a contented and healthful life in advance.

Several unique ordeals some very similar circumstance. As opposed to the Constitution having an being overweight medical procedures medical professional, they get misdirected via the myths bordering being overweight surgical treatment. On the other hand, it can be vital to independent myths and facts, In terms of any health-related therapy. Avail timely consultation from an being overweight surgical treatment health care provider.