#i’m going out 4 times a week am working 24 hours and also have just got a third job

[chronicallycouchbound]

I feel like people often don’t talk about the experiences of disabled people who have caretakers because so much of the conversation is about us—not including us.

I receive in home care for 30 hours a week (+ 4 hours/week for respite). This is paid for by Medicaid (state insurance). Outside of paid hours, my primary caretakers care for me unpaid and assist me most of the time. I’m very rarely left alone due to my high support needs. Often, when I am left alone, I am completely bedridden or at minimum housebound. I have frequent emergency life threatening health problems, falls, and serious injuries even with support in place, and these things significantly increase when I’m on my own.

I’m extremely lucky that my paid caretakers are my partner, my sister (the only family member I have regular contact with, I’m estranged from the rest of my immediate family and most of my extended family) and my best friend.

I used to have agency staffing which was horrible for me and borderline traumatic. At several points, before doing the self directed care option (which allows me to choose my own staff, hire and train them myself and dictate hours for them), I opted to not have any staffing. I was regularly in the emergency room. I can’t drive, so I was having to walk and if I was lucky enough to be able to take the bus on occasion or get a ride from a Facebook acquaintance, they were few and far in between. I don’t have family support, and even my sister who is supportive wasn’t living in the state at the time and doesn’t have a car most of the time.

And before I could even choose which staffing option, even though medically it had been deemed essential for me to have in home care, even though my insurance covered it, I had to wait several years (I was 18 when I was approved) until I was 21 to qualify to start. The reason why: I was legally an “adult disabled child” because of my high support needs (which is funny because I STILL don’t have SSI at age 24) and thus legally unable to consent to my own care plan. I needed a blood relative to consent, and that same blood relative (who had to have proof of such!) couldn’t care for me. At the time, my sister was the only person who could’ve been my caregiver and also she is the only verifiable blood relative I have contact with for safety reasons, and my only relative on this side of the USA.

The first business day after my 21st birthday I immediately got things set up to get in home care.

This is out of date, I get assistance with more than just these highlighted ADL (activities of daily living) tasks now.

In short: my day-to-day life is entirely dependent on others.

And there’s power imbalances that exist between me and my caregivers, even with my current caregivers being amazing and anti-ableist. They will always exist. We talk about the power dynamics of me being dependent on them for my survival, and how heavy that weight can be for each of us.

Having caregivers often means that accessibility is extra difficult— I’ve been told straight up multiple times that I can’t have assistance from my caregivers to help me change in a changing room when we’re out shopping. That they can’t go into the bathroom with me, that they can’t help me get un/dressed during appointments, that they can’t come into spaces with me.

I’ve been denied access to psychiatric care because I can’t do my daily living tasks (ADLs- the highlighted items) independently. And when I’m in a hospital or emergency room, I can’t have my in home workers be paid to care for me, there’s an expectation that the nursing staff at the hospital will do it. Even though my caregivers were specifically trained to learn my body and needs for weeks and have been working with me for years. I have severe cPTSD and showering in front of a stranger is something I cannot do. I would rather fall or faint or get injured or just not shower than deal with that. But I’m expected to just let anyone have access to my body just because I’m physically disabled and need support.

When I faint/fall/get injured/have life threatening health issues arise while I’m not clothed, or when I’m otherwise vulnerable, I’m supposed to let strangers just touch me however they want to. I have to show them my chest (for my cardiac care) and let them poke and examine me. I can’t object without losing access to vital care.

I have agency. I have rights. I have autonomy. I deserve to be able to exercise these things.

[saveyourblood]

Pretty Boy - Ch 1 (Evan Buckley x Reader) (Eventual Evan Buckley x Eddie Diaz x Reader)

Summary: You can feel Buck staring. When your eyes meet his, you realize he’s staring at your hand, which is still on Eddie’s knee. You slowly retreat, which makes Buck turn his attention to your face. You smile softly. He just looks out the window. The one where you're an advanced paramedic, Buck and Eddie are firefighters, and you think you might be in love with both of them. Originally posted to AO3

Chapter Summary: Your new(ish) co-worker has a special talent: getting on your nerves.

A/N: This is such a niche story and I am desperate for validation, please tell me if you enjoyed reading! Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: Swearing (if that even counts).

You’re ending the first half of your 24-hour shift the same way you always do—dinner with the team. Well, at least that’s how you try to end the first half of your shift. Of course, that’s also assuming that both the fire and medical teams are actually at the station and not on a call.

All things considered, this probably only happens once a week, if that.

When it works out, though, it’s a good time. You already spend a lot of time in the rig with Hen and Chim, being an advanced paramedic and all. When it comes to the firefighters, though, you aren’t as well-versed, so it’s nice to have a weekly ‘getting to know you’ session. It seems like these days, it’s a 50/50 shot if they’ll make it to next week's dinner.

The firefighting crew at the 118 is a revolving door of macho men. When you first started, it was Chim, Tommy, and Sal. Chim became a paramedic, so he didn’t exactly ‘leave.’ Sal got relieved of duty, so he didn’t really have a choice. Tommy left, but for something better. Maybe it isn’t so much the job that makes people leave; maybe being a firefighter at the 118 is a stepping stone for bigger and better things.

There is one firefighter that, if he left, you wouldn’t be heartbroken. In fact, it would probably make your shifts a whole lot better.

Evan Buckley, aka ‘Buck.’ God, even thinking his name makes you want to gag a little.

He’s a decent kid, but he’s just that: a kid. He’s a Probie; he’s only been on the job for about 4 months, and no one would assume otherwise. His heart is in the right place, but his brain hasn’t caught up yet. You’re starting to fear it never will.

“I know exactly what that polite, distant smile means: she’s bored,” Chim says as he leans over the counter, pulling you right out of your thoughts and back into reality. “This woman is so far out of my league, but she’s once-in-a-lifetime… I can’t let her go.”

“Lots of fish in the sea,” Bobby, your captain, chimes in. He leans over to pull something out of the oven.

“Not with the bait he’s using,” Hen remarks as she walks by. Her arms are full of dishes to set the table with.

“Amen, sister,” you agree, hot on her heels. She gives you a small smile and hands you the plates, which you accept with a smile of your own.

“Cruel, but true,” Chim sighs. “I met her on this new dating site, just for cops and firefighters, RomancingTheUniform.com. She’s an adrenaline junkie, so foreplay is me telling her stories about running into burning buildings and jumping into icy lakes and…”

“I’m sorry, wait,” Hen interrupts, “remind me: when was the last time you ran into or jumped over anything?”

“...I embellish a little.”

“Oh, noted.”

“So is she a cop or a firefighter?” You ask.

Chim gives you a look. “Why would she be?”

“Well, you said the website is for cops and firefighters,” you repeat. “Doesn’t that make her a cop or a firefighter?”

“Okay, it’s not just cops and firefighters,” Chim cedes, “it’s also for people that want to date cops and firefighters.”

“Ohhh,” you smile, “so cops, firefighters, and badge bunnies. What could possibly go wrong?”

“I’m telling you, the uniform is a major aphrodisiac,” Chim continues as he brings a salad to the table.

“Yeah, hence the term ‘badge bunny,’” you remark.

The conversation is interrupted by one of the engines backing into the station. You probably should have noticed it was gone, but frankly, as long as your rig is in the bay safe and sound, you don’t care what the meatheads are up to.

Speaking of meatheads…

“Oh good, PB is back,” you remark sarcastically.

‘PB’, aka ‘pretty boy,’ aka Buck. You started calling him Pretty Boy his first day, and over the months, you shortened it. He jogs his way up the stairs and dips a finger in the communal spaghetti bowl. You roll your eyes and take a sip of your coffee.

“Wash your hands!” Hen scolds as she pulls the bowl out of his reach.

“What if there’d been a call?” Bobby asks as he brings the last dishes to the table.

“I was in the neighborhood!” Buck defends himself. He takes one of the plates from Bobby’s grasp, but instead of passing it around like a normal person, he starts eating the food off the plate with his dirty hands. Sometimes, you wondered if he was raised by a pack of stray dogs.

Bobby starts lecturing Buck, and you smirk with a little satisfaction. Bobby’s going to write him up, and truthfully? It’s a long time coming.

“First infraction, two more, and you’re out,” Bobby says as he steals back the plate. “Wash your hands.”

“You know, you're not helping him by going easy on him,” Chim says once Buck is out of earshot.

“He just needs a little direction,” Bobby replies.

“I’ll remind you of that when he gets us killed,” you mumble.

The alarm bells start to sound through the station. Everyone groans, including yourself. So much for dinner.

Chim decided to catch a ride with the boys in the truck, so that leaves you and Hen in the rig.

“I’m sorry, dispatch,” you say into the radio, “118 RA responding: did you say the baby is in the wall?”

“10-4, 118,” the dispatcher responds. “Caller reports hearing a baby crying in his walls.”

“Copy that, 118 RA clear,” you say before hanging the radio back up. “Well, this will be fun.”

“You think you can play nice with Buck?” Hen asks, a smirk on her face.

“Hey, I’m always nice,” you reply.

“Not to him!” She laughs. “Don’t think I didn’t see you roll your eyes the second he got back to the station.”

“I can play nice and still think he’s a raging idiot,” you defend. “Besides, since when are you his biggest fan?”

“Trust me, I’m not,” Hen chuckles. “And I love you, but you don’t know how to play nice.”

“Why be the bigger person when you can be the bigger problem?”

That remark gets a full belly laugh out of Hen. “Yeah, that sounds like you.”

Hen parks the rig behind the engine in front. The boys come pouring out immediately, grabbing various tools and equipment. You make your way to the back of the ambulance, tossing Hen her med bag before picking up your own.

You follow the rest of the crew upstairs, and before you know it, the five of you are standing in some random guy’s apartment, listening for something that probably isn’t real.

“Look, I'm telling you, I heard a baby crying,” the man says. “Someone flushed a baby down the toilet.”

Hen picks up a bong off the counter and gives the man a look.

“I’m not high.”

You both raise your eyebrows.

“Okay, I’m pretty high, but it’s Sativa,” he says. “It makes you happy. It doesn’t make you hallucinate.”

“It could’ve been a rat,” Chim shrugs. “Sometimes rats get stuck in the walls.”

You frown. At the end of his sentence, you swore you heard a cooing sound.

“Shh,” you say to everyone, walking over to the bathroom. “Did you guys hear that?”

They're hot on your heels, watching as you take your stethoscope from around your neck and put it into your ears. You place the bell on the wall and wait. When you hear nothing, you begin rapping your knuckles on the tile until you do. Once again, it’s a faint cooing sound, not unlike a baby.

You then knock your knuckles on the wall until you hear a hollow sound. You take a marker from your pants pocket and mark an ‘x’ over it, knowing the space behind it is hollow. You take the stethoscope out from your ears.

“We need to open up this wall,” you say, pointing to the ‘x.’

“No, we’re being punked,” Chim disagrees. “It’s a tape recorder or something.”

“Maybe not,” Hen says, stepping forward. “Maybe a mother gives birth on the toilet and flushes it.”

“Okay, first of all, that's awful,” Chim says. “Second, do you know how pipes work?”

“If the baby is premature, its bones can bend and compress like sponges,” Bobby mentions. “We need to get in there.”

“Stand back, I got this!” Buck says, swinging his fire axe over his shoulder.

He runs up towards the wall with full intentions of swinging. Hen and Chim move out of the way and shout while Bobby tries to grab him. Ultimately, you’re the one to stop him, and you do it by placing both hands on the axe.

“Hey! Did you even stop to consider that you might hit a baby?!” You shout, adrenaline pumping through your bloodstream.

Buck just stares at you with wide eyes.

“Yeah, didn’t think so,” you spat, pushing the axe out of the way.

“Buck, go get the saw,” Bobby directs.

“Try to find some common sense while you’re down there,” you call after Buck as he walks out.

“Nice catch,” Bobby says, looking at you.

“How nice of me to save the baby from one of the LAFD’s finest first responders,” you reply bitterly.

You can’t help but look at Hen, who quickly looks away. Her avoidance gives you a small sense of victory because this? This shit right here? This is why you can’t play nice with Buck. His head is screwed on backward, and it can get people killed. Playing nice isn’t going to fix that.

Thankfully, Bobby takes the saw from Buck once he brings it up. He makes a few small cuts in the wall before he and the other boys are pulling at the drywall. They quickly expose a massive pipe running behind the toilet.

“That thing is huge,” you remark to Hen.

“It probably connects a bunch of the toilets in the units above this one,” Hen returned.

“So… even with the water turned off…” you start, a sense of dread filling your stomach.

“If someone above us flushes the toilet, it could drown the baby,” Hen finishes. Almost before she finishes the sentence, she’s running into the hall, yelling for people not to flush their toilets. The boys make a few cuts into the pipe, and in no time, they’re taking it to the floor.

“Guys, I can see the head,” you say, joining them on the floor.

They make a few more cuts until the pipe is one straight segment.

“Get the head out,” Chim instructs.

“Yeah, you gotta push from below,” Buck chimes in.

You try that, but the baby isn’t moving. You look to the corner, then at Buck.

“Bring me the defibrillator,” you instruct clearly.

Buck scrambles over, picking up the case.

“Just the lube, Buck,” you rephrase, but he’s already coming back with the whole thing.

“Take it, take it,” Buck says, passing it off to you.

You let out a frustrated sigh before grabbing the lube out and tossing the rest of it to the side. You pour some lube on the baby’s head, then down by its feet.

“Work that in,” you tell Chim.

You move your index finger around the circumference of the pipe, brushing the baby’s legs with lubricant as you do so. Then, you gently apply pressure to its feet, and slowly, you can feel it move forward.

“This is gonna be a scoop and run,” you mumble.

“Hen, get the ambulance ready,” Bobby tells her. You’re not sure when she got back, but when you look up again, she’s gone again.

Slowly, the baby’s head emerges from the pipe, and the rest of her body follows.

“She’s not breathing,” you quickly note, “starting CPR.”

You place your index and middle finger in the center of the baby’s chest and press down fast and hard. “Looks like her airway’s obstructed.”

“Buck, get the bulb syringe,” Chim demands. A few seconds pass. “Buck, come on!”

“I’m coming!” Buck barks back, clearly in a panic.

“Come on, pretty girl,” you say quietly as you continue compressions. “Come on, sweetheart.”

Buck returns with the bulb syringe and uses it, but it doesn’t help.

“Dammit,” you curse. “You’ll have to try a blind finger sweep.”

Buck looks at you, then Chimney, then the baby, then back at you. “Me?”

“You gotta learn somehow,” you remark. “It’s easy: just turn her head to the side, curl your pinkie, and see if you can scoop anything out.”

Buck is hesitant initially, but he eventually does as you tell him. It takes a few seconds, but he manages to clear the obstruction, and the baby begins crying. Everyone laughs with relief.

“Let’s get her wrapped up,” you say, reaching for a towel.

The four of you rush down the hall, you with the baby in your arms. The pit in your stomach returns.

“No one held the elevator?!” you yell.

“Dammit,” Chim curses.

“Give her to me,” Buck says, nodding to the stairs.

You stare at him.

“Come on, I’m twice as fast,” Buck pleads.

“Screw this up, and I’ll kill you,” you threaten before carefully handing her over.

Buck takes off down the stairs, but you follow after. There’s only so much that can happen in a few flights of stairs, but you aren’t willing to risk it.

“I got you,” Buck says to the baby, “you’ll be okay.”

A faint smile crosses your face. Maybe Buck isn’t so terrible after all.

“Come on, move it!” Buck shouts as you both make it out of the lobby and out to the rig.

You climb into the ambulance with him, but before either of you can even sit down, you hear someone yelling to wait. It’s not just anyone: it’s LAPD Sergeant Grant, or as you’ve heard Hen calls her, Athena.

“Wait, is that the mother?” Buck says, looking at the young woman with blood-stained pants in someone’s arms. “Yo, screw her! Look what she did!”

Never mind. Buck is still terrible.

“Sit down and shut up!” You yell at Buck. “This is not your call! She is a child, and she’s bleeding out!”

“Look what she did!” Buck repeated.

“Come on, let’s get her up here,” you say to Athena and the man carrying the young girl, disregarding Buck’s protests.

Bobby and Chim made it down, so they help haul the young girl up into the rig. Chim stays at the head while Bobby sits next to Buck, the spot you were about to sit in mere moments ago.

“If this baby dies, it’s on you,” Buck says, staring at Athena.

“Stop talking, Evan,” you snap as someone closes the ambulance doors.

Using his actual name seems to shut him up.

“What’s your name, honey?” You ask the baby’s mother as you cut away her shirt to place EKG leads.

“Marika,” she whispers. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“I know you’re scared, Marika, but you just have to keep breathing for me, okay?” you say. “My friend Howie is going to start an IV so we can give you fluids and medication. You’re bleeding a lot, so I have to do what’s called a fundal exam, okay? I have to press on your stomach to make sure your uterus is contracting back down normally.”

She stares at you, eyes filled with tears, before eventually nodding.

Using one hand to stabilize over the pubis, you begin pressing down the other into Marika’s stomach, a few fingerbreadths below her belly button. She lets out a few whimpers. You don’t feel the fundus, or the top of the uterus, like you should.

“Marika, you’re bleeding a lot because your uterus isn’t contracting. I have to make it contract by doing a fundal massage. It won’t feel that good, but it could save your life.”

Once again, Marika looks at you before nodding. This time, she closes her eyes.

Using firm and consistent pressure, you push one hand down where the fundus should be and make small circles. Marika lets out a few more cries of pain. You notice that, after a few minutes, the bleeding starts to slow, and her uterus firms up beneath your hands.

“Hospital ETA 5 minutes, hang in,” Hen chimes in from the ambulance's cab.

“Something’s wrong,” Buck says, staring at the baby in his arms.

You quickly move over to him. “Put her in your lap so I can see.”

Buck listens, moving away the towel so you can look at the baby. She’s cyanosed around the lips. You flip open a compartment and pull out the neonatal ambu bag. You hand it to Bobby, and you don’t even have to tell him to start bagging.

“I’m so sorry,” Marika says. “Is she gonna be okay?”

Bobby squeezes the bag every other second, delivering a breath to the baby. Her color is starting to look better, but she isn’t very responsive.

“Here, let me try something,” you say.

You gently pick up the baby and set it on Marika’s bare chest. After a few moments, the baby begins to move and cry out.

“Oh my god, why did that work?” Marika asks, wrapping her hands around her baby.

“Skin-to-skin can help babies regulate bodily functions, like temperature and breathing,” you reply as you place a towel over them.

You look over to the men sitting next to you. Bobby gives you a nod, and Buck avoids eye contact, but you can tell that he’s pissed. Fuck him, he doesn’t know his head from his ass anyways.

Once the rig pulls into the ambulance bay, you and Chim help the ER staff get the gurney out of the ambulance. Bobby and Buck follow suit, only Buck tries to follow them into the hospital. Bobby stops him before he does.

Bobby gives Buck some lecture about how we did our jobs, and now it’s their turn; it’s the speech every overly excited first responder gets at least once at the start of their career.

A cop car pulls up, and Athena comes out. She clearly found the person she was looking for, because she starts yelling at Buck.

“You do not get to choose who lives and who dies,” she lectures.

“Really? Because I was under the impression that kind of was my job,” Buck retorts.

You could seriously slap him.

“That mother was no less of a child than her baby,” Athena continues yelling, pointing a finger at the hospital. “You’re gonna get someone killed.”

“Well, maybe, but not today,” Buck says with a cocky head tilt.

You laugh humorlessly. “You know what, Pretty Boy?” you say, turning to Buck.

Fuck it. Bobby won’t put him in his place, and Athena isn’t allowed to, so you take matters into your own hands, literally.

Before you even fully comprehend what you’re doing, you’re wrapping a hand around Buck’s throat and pushing him against the ambulance. You aren’t choking him, but you don’t move your hand because keeping it there is your only leverage.

“I’m getting real tired of this tough guy bullshit,” you growl, your face only an inch from his. He’s quite a bit taller than you, but when you bounced him off the rig, his footing faltered, so he’s crouched at your eye level. “You wanna get real, Evan? You didn’t do a goddamn thing today except get in the way. While we were busy saving lives, you were shitting your pants and dropping the ball, not exactly what a tough guy is supposed to do.”

“Okay, enough,” Bobby says, trying to break it up. You’re far from finished, though.

You move your hand from his neck, but only so you can point it in his face. “You aren’t a god — you don’t decide who lives! You didn’t even save a life today: we did, because you kept fucking up. And if you keep fucking up like you did today, you definitely will kill someone, and your little jokes and midday booty calls and your shitty little grin won’t change that!”

Bobby ends up physically pulling you away while Athena makes some room between the two of you.

“Aren’t you going to arrest her or something?” Buck says, rubbing his neck. “She assaulted me!”

“She didn’t say anything that wasn’t true,” Athena counters. “I promise you, Buckley, the next time you screw up? It’ll be your last.”

Athena casts Bobby a glance before she walks away.

“You,” Bobby says, looking at Buck, “in the truck. Now.”

You start to walk over to the passenger’s side of the cab when Bobby calls after you.

“I want you in my office the second we get back,” He orders.

You clench your jaw. “Yes Captain.”

Ch 2

[matttgirlies]

Matt & Me🎀

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.

fem! reader x singer! matt

disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.

warnings - mentions of drug use

y/nn = your nickname for any confusion🩷

Chapter 11

Matt Sturniolo created his own world; only in his own environment did he feel secure, comfortable, and protected. A genuine camaraderie was created at Graceland. We lived as one big family, eating, talking, arguing, joking, playing, and traveling together.

Although I became friends with the guys in Matt’s retinue, he never let me, or anyone else, forget that I was his girl. I was never to get too close or become too familiar with any of the regulars.

One evening, after we came home from a movie, we said good night to everyone and went upstairs. Returning to the kitchen a few minutes later to get something to eat, I found Jerry Schilling, who’d just started working for Matt, making himself a snack. We started talking. A few minutes later, Matt appeared.

“What the hell are you two doing down here?” he shouted at us.

Intimidated, Jerry said, “Well, Matt, we were just talking. I was asking her how she felt, because she didn’t feel well this afternoon.”

“I came down to get something to eat,” I explained.

“y/nn, you don’t need to be roaming around here late at night,” he said, angrily ordering me upstairs.

Behind me, I could hear him lashing out at Jerry. “If you want to keep this job, son, you mind your own business. If there’s anyone who’s going to ask her how she feels, it’ll be me. You better mind your own goddamn business.”

I liked Jerry. He was warm, sincere, and very personable; just a couple of years older than I, he was one of the few people who I could relate to. But from that time on, it was a dodging match every time we’d run into each other. Now Jerry and I laugh about the “good old days” when we reminisce.

Most of the boys who worked for Matt had been around from the beginning and they knew all about him—his sense of humor, his sensitivity, and his temper. He stripped himself bare in front of them, and they accepted him for what he was.

Yet working for Matt was a twenty-four-hour-a-day job, and the boys were at his beck and call constantly. They played when he played and slept when he slept. It took a certain kind of personality to put up with his demands, whether they made sense or not.

“Come on, y/nn, let’s go to Los Angeles. I’ll show you where I film movies.,” he said one afternoon when we’d only been up for a few hours. He called downstairs and told Alan to alert everyone that he wanted to leave within the hour.

Alan said, “Okay, Boss. I think Richard and Gene are still sleeping. I’ll give ’em a call and tell ’em to come right over.”

“Their lazy asses are still sleeping?” Matt asked. “I’ve been up for two goddamn hours. They should have been over here by now. Alan, from now on, when I call down for my breakfast, call the boys and tell them I’m up and to be ready for anything, and that may include me not even coming downstairs. I just want them here.”

Demanding? Yes, but Matt could be just as generous. By today’s standards the boys’ salaries were not high—the average paycheck was $250 a week—but if the boys ever felt the pinch by the end of the month, they would go to Matt. They’d ask him if he could help them out with a down payment on a house or the first and last months’ payments on an apartment. Matt always came through for them, lending them the one thousand or five thousand or ten thousand dollars they asked for. He was rarely if ever paid back.

There also was no limit to the expensive gifts he gave them—television consoles for Christmas, bonus checks, Cadillac convertibles, Mercedes-Benzes. If he heard someone was sad or depressed, he loved to surprise them with a gift, usually a brand-new car. When he gave to one, he would usually end up giving to all.

James didn’t have much respect for the guys. He said Matt just gave and gave and gave, and they took and took and took. He’d say, “Son, we have to save.” Matt would answer, “It’s only money, Dad. I just have to go out and make more.”

James resented the regulars acting as if Graceland was their personal club. They’d go into the kitchen at any hour and order anything they wanted. Naturally, everyone ordered something different. The cooks worked night and day keeping them happy. James felt, “To hell with the boys. Their main concern should be Matt.”

What was really outrageous was that the regulars were ordering sirloin steaks or prime ribs while Matt usually ate hamburgers or peanut butter and banana sandwiches.

I wasn’t too popular around Graceland when I started reorganizing the kitchen. I set down a policy of having one menu per meal, and anyone who didn’t like what was on it could go to a local restaurant. This new edict resulted in much grumbling from the guys, but the cooks were relieved, and James sanctioned my decision, announcing, “It’s about time someone organized the meals. It was beginning to look like we were feeding half of Boston.”

Matt was the boss, the provider, and the power. Both the boys and I had to protect him from people who annoyed or irritated him and were no longer in his favor. Before coming down for the evening, he’d have me call downstairs to check who was there. I’d run down the guests, aware that certain names would strike him wrong.

“Shit,” he’d say, his mood destroyed. “What’s he want? Bring me some more bad news?” He’d stay up in his room rather than spend an evening with someone he didn’t like. There was one particular regular who had incurred his disfavor, and Matt told everyone he didn’t want him around. “Don’t let him through those goddamn gates!” Matt ordered. “All I have to do is look at his face and I get depressed.” Matt barred him from Graceland for a number of years, saying, “If he changes his morbid attitude, maybe I’ll change my mind.” His perceptions were correct, as these “friends” eventually betrayed him.

Matt and James kept some of their relatives at a distance because, as Matt explained to me, they’d shunned him when he was growing up, ridiculing him as a sissy, a mama’s boy. Mary Lou stood up for Matt and told his tormentors to go their own way. Angrily, she had said, “Don’t bother us with these accusations.”

Then fame and fortune hit, and suddenly all the kinfolk came around, begging for jobs or crying that they needed help. Sometimes Matt got upset, charging, “The only time they visit is with their hand out. It’d be nice if they’d come around just to see how I was doing. But hell no, it’s always, ‘Ah, Matt, I could use a little extra cash. Could you help me out?’ Hell, I’ll bet when I’m dead and gone, they’ll still be taking advantage.” But Matt ended up slipping each of them a hundred dollars or more every time they came around. If it had been up to James, he would have gotten rid of every one of them. But Matt kept saying, “No, Dad, they don’t have any place to go. They couldn’t work anywhere. Keep them here.”

From the beginning of his success, Matt put many family members on salary, and all had titles. James was his business manager; Patsy, his personal secretary; uncles Vester Sturniolo and Johnny and Travis Smith, and cousin Harold Lloyd, gate guards; cousins Billy, Bobby, and Gene, personal aides; and then there was Tracy Smith, who seemed to go from brother to brother for support. Matt took care of everyone.

I remember one night at Graceland when Matt came back to the kitchen and saw Tracy pacing the floor. “Hey, Tracy,” he said, “How ya doing, man?” Tracy, his hands in his pockets, could hardly look Matt in the eye. “I don’t know, Matt,” he sighed. “What do ya mean, you don’t know? Everyone knows how they’re doin’, man.”

Tracy, shifting back and forth, mumbled, “I got my nerves in the dirt, Matt.” Matt staggered back, laughing. “Nerves in the dirt! Hell, I never heard it expressed like that before. You need some money, Tracy?”

Again, Tracy just shifted back and forth, as Matt called Nate over and told him to give Tracy a bill. A big smile covered Tracy’s lined face as he happily took his hundred dollars and walked out the door.

Matt knew that having his nerves in the dirt was Tracy’s way of saying he was down and out—and worried sick about it. He never forgot that phrase. “Poor ol’ Matt,” he’d say. “I’ll never forget the look on his face that night, poor ol’ guy.”

That was Matt—always caring, always sensitive to everyone’s needs, even while presenting a macho image to his fans and friends.

Anything I could think of doing for him, I did. I made sure Graceland was always warm and inviting, with the lights turned low, as he preferred them, the temperature in his bedroom set to his exact desire (freezing), and the kitchen filled with the aroma of his favorite meals.

Every night before dinner was served, I came downstairs first, checked with the maids to see that his food was just the way he liked it—his mashed potatoes creamily whipped, plenty of cornbread, and his meat burnt to perfection. I always had candles on the dining room table to create a romantic atmosphere despite the fact that we always ate with several of the regulars.

I loved babying Matt. He had a little-boy quality that could bring out the mother instinct in any woman, a beguiling way of seeming utterly dependent. It was this aspect of his charm that made me want to hold him, shower him with affection, protect him, fight for him, and yes, even die for him. I went to extremes in taking care of him, from cutting his steak at dinner to making sure his water glass was always filled. I enjoyed pampering and spoiling him and found myself jealous of others vying for his attention and approval.

But I didn’t always receive his approval. If something went wrong with his dinner, Matt blew up. “Why isn’t this steak done? Why didn’t you make sure the maids cooked it right? If you’d have done your job, it wouldn’t have turned out like this.” Obviously something else was wrong, and I didn’t recognize it at the time. Because of the continuous pressures and problems in Matt’s life, all magnified by taking prescribed drugs, little things would set him off. I took responsibility for everything in his life and always took it all too personally.

I wanted to be with Matt as much as I could, but while going to the movies or the fairgrounds every night might have been a wonderful way for him to relax, it posed an enormous problem for me. Often I wouldn’t get home until 5 or 6 a.m., and I’d have to be at school two hours later. Sometimes I never went to sleep. When I did, I could barely make it out of bed. I would lie there trying to drum up the strength to face the day, Matt making it even harder by suggesting that I sleep in and cut classes. It would have been so easy to go along with his suggestion, but hanging over me was the agreement I’d made with my parents. They trusted me and even though I was letting them down, I still had to keep up the facade.

Day after day I drove to school, attended classes till noon, then returned to Graceland to slip back into bed and cuddle next to Matt, who was still sound asleep. When he awoke at 3 or 4 p.m., I might never have left his side for all he knew. I was there to give him his usual order of orange juice, a Spanish omelet, home-fried potatoes, a mere two pounds of bacon, and—first and foremost—his black coffee.

Everyone who knew Matt was aware that it took him at least two to three hours to wake up fully. Asking him to make a decision, even a simple one such as what movie he wanted to see that night, was ill-advised. He was just too groggy and irritable from the sleeping pills, which were causing him to sleep as many as fourteen hours a day. It seemed only natural for him to take some Dexedrine to wake up.

I was always concerned about his intake of sleeping pills. His horror of insomnia, compounded with a family history of compulsive worrying, caused him to down three or four Placidyls, Seconals, Quaaludes, or Tuinals almost every night—and often it was a combination of all four. When I expressed my concern, he just picked up the medical dictionary, always near at hand on his night table.

“In here is the explanation for every type of pill on the market, their ingredients, side effects, cures, everything about them,” he assured me. “There isn’t anything I can’t find out.”

It was true. He was always reading up on pills, always checking to see what was on the market, and which ones had received FDA approval. He referred to them by their medical names and knew all their ingredients. Like everyone else around him, I was impressed with his knowledge and certain that he was an expert. One would think he had a degree in pharmacology. He always assured me that he didn’t need pills, that he could never become dependent on them. This difference in opinion resulted in many serious confrontations; I always compromised my integrity and ended up taking his viewpoint.

I began taking sleeping pills and diet pills too. Two Placidyls for him and one for me. A Dexedrine for him and one for me. Eventually Matt’s consumption of pills seemed as normal to me as watching him eat a pound of bacon with his Spanish omelet. I routinely took “helpers” in order to get to sleep after wild rides at the fairgrounds or early-morning jam sessions. And I routinely took more “helpers” when I woke up in order to maintain the fast pace and, more importantly, to study for my final exams.

During the last month before finals, I started popping more dexies than before. They seemed to give me the energy I needed to get through classes and homework. Every free moment was devoted to cramming a whole semester’s work into a few weeks. But my concentration was scattered; the strain of life at Graceland had finally caught up with me.

I had already been warned by Sister Adrian that in order for me to graduate, I had to pass all my subjects. During a talk in her office, I wanted desperately to confide in her and explained how hard it was to maintain my grade level with the late hours I kept: But how could I tell that to a nun?

I had no real goals after graduation, but I did sometimes dream of becoming a dancer or possibly enrolling in an art academy. Now I realize that I was deeply influenced by Matt’s casual attitude toward continued schooling. He figured I didn’t need it and I agreed. Just being with him most of the time would provide an education—not to mention experience—that no school could give me. He wanted me to be his totally, free to go to him in an instant if he needed me.

That sounded great to me. I’d never planned on a future without Matt. Therefore, while my classmates were deciding which colleges to apply to, I was deciding which gun to wear with what sequined dress. I was tempted to say to Sister Adrian, “Oh, by the way, Sister, does gunmetal gray go with royal blue sequins?” With that attitude it was no surprise that I was still woefully unprepared for my most hated subject, algebra, the week before finals.

On the day of the test, I sat in the crowded classroom, hyper from downing a dexy, trying to work out the problems. Despite my effort, I knew there was no way I was going to pass. I started to panic. I had to graduate. I had an obligation to Matt and to my parents, who I knew would yank me out of Graceland the minute I failed this test. I glanced at the girl next to me—and at her completed test paper. It’s my last resort, I thought. I’m going for it. I was not willing to face the consequences of being sent home for failing this test.

Her name was Janet and she was a straight A student. I tapped her on the shoulder and flashed my brightest smile, whispering, “Are you a Matt fan?” Taken aback by my question, Janet nodded yes. “How would you like to come to one of his parties?” I asked.

“Are you kidding?” she replied. “I’d love to.”

“Well, I know a way that it can be arranged.”

I eyed her test paper and explained. Janet instantly grasped my dilemma and, without a word, slid her paper to the edge of her desk. Now I had a full view of her answers. I spent the rest of the hour furiously copying them down and I not only passed, but I got an A on that test.

I hadn’t expected Matt to make much of my graduation. His attitude was, “A diploma’s not that important; life’s experiences are.” But to my surprise, he really looked forward to it and arranged to have a big party for our friends after the ceremony. There he presented a beautiful red Corvair, my first car.

On the big night he was like a proud parent. Nervous about what he should wear to the ceremony, he finally settled on a dark blue suit, and I put on my navy blue gown. I couldn’t possibly keep the cap on over that mass of teased hair.

Matt had a limo waiting for us out front. But there was one problem: I did not want him to come to the actual ceremony. It would attract a lot of attention, and all eyes would be focused on him instead of the graduating seniors.

Finally I worked up enough courage to ask him to wait outside, and explained why. Smiling his funny little grin, the one that came to his lips when he was hurt or upset, he agreed without hesitation. “I hadn’t thought about that,” he said. “I won’t come in. I’ll just be outside in the car waiting for you. That way I’ll kinda be there.”

And that was what he did. I accepted my diploma with mixed emotions. I would have loved for him to have been watching, but only I knew what a physical, emotional, and mental strain it had been to get that piece of paper. To me, it represented freedom, freedom to stay out until dawn if I wanted and sleep all day if I wanted. It represented freedom from my school uniform and from the teasing the entourage subjected me to every time they caught me in it trying to sneak past them at Graceland. I was a big girl playing in the big leagues.

As soon as I could get away, I ran outside. In front of the church, Matt and the boys were standing by the long black limo, looking like the Chicago Mafia in their dark glasses and suits, each concealing a.38. Around them a group of nuns were clamoring for Matt’s autograph.

Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd. This material may be protected by copyright.

a/n - so cute🎀

[babycherrycola]

I’m finally in the 70s!!!

I should’ve posted an update sooner, but life got in the way.

I’ve started doing a plan that’s been working absolute wonders for me, so I’m gonna share it with you :)

Firstly I’ll start by explaining what I used to struggle with. I used to really struggle with eating small portions. I’m a volume eater and I like having hearty meals, not just stuffing myself with low cal vegetables. I was never satisfied with portion control and calorie counting was just way too exhausting.

My second issue laid in the fact that I was never home for lunch or dinner and I ate out a lot as a result. I tried taking lunches to uni, but they all got soggy and gross by the time I wanted to actually eat them so I hated doing it. Even if I ate that lunch, I’d still feel unsatisfied and crave sugary snacks.

I also had a non-diet related problem regarding my schedule which was that I never had the time or energy to study outside of lectures. I was always rushing to get out the door in the morning and the near 4 hour total daily commute to school drained all the energy I had by the end of the day. Plus I got home at around 7-8 if I was lucky.

My new diet and schedule fixed all of those issues.

1. I started going to sleep at around 9-11 pm and waking up at 5-7 am depending on the day. This gave me plenty of time to get in my 7-8 hours and also have time to study in the morning BEFORE school. I’m definitely a morning person now that I’ve gotten into a comfortable rhythm.

2. I only eat one meal per day. I KNOW HOW THAT SOUNDS, but hear me out. I don’t restrict myself and I eat a lot of food in that one meal. I fill a big plate like so: 40% vegetables, 40% hearty high protein meal like curry or stroganoff (that I love) and 20% bread/ crackers / carbs. At the end of the meal I feel fully satisfied and energized.

3. I drink a LOT of water, tea and coffee throughout the day. I was never a tea or coffee person and I never remembered to drink water, but mow that I get hungry at around 3-4 pm and my stomach starts craving something warm, I drink a ridiculous amount of liquids. It’s really made a difference in my metabolism and I’m actually starting to like tea.

4. Don’t just sit around all day. Get a little bit of movement in. I don’t have the energy to work out on days when I know I have to study a lot, but I am planning on scheduling 2 gym days per week on days when my schedule is light. My campus is big so I do a lot of walking anyway.

5. Track your progress. I know it’s not recommended that you weigh yourself every day, but weighing myself keeps me motivated and in tune with my body on a daily basis. I have a hard time actually knowing what I look like and how big I am so having a number confirm my progress is reassuring.

6. I don’t do this every day. I eat one meal per day six days a week, but on Mondays I know it’s not realistic for me to only have one meal because my schedule is so hectic. I’m realistic about what I can handle, so if I know that a practically 24 hour fast on top of a busy day will make me cranky and fatigued, I don’t do it. Set realistic expectations for yourself and accept the consequences of them.

7. Last but not least, Have a solid reason for why you’re doing this. For me, I have multiple reasons. Number one is to prove to myself that after letting myself down so many times and quitting on so many weight loss journeys, I can actually do it. I’m doing this to teach myself discipline. I’m doing this for my health, since I am insulin resistant and fasting helps make you more insulin sensitive. I’m also doing this to feel prettier and fit into the clothes I want to wear. Keep in mind that the pain of hard work is better than the pain of disappointment. It’s a myth that a magic product or procedure will make you lose weight painlessly, weight loss is not easy for a human body and it will take resilience to lose it and keep it off. But it will be worth it if you’re doing it for the right reasons.

Let me know if you guys want to see what I eat for my one meal a day!!!

[beskarinhyperspace]

A Ripple In Space

I just want to know you more. 

More Chapters | MASTERLIST

4. Viper 

*Mature, Explicit, NSFW*

Kylo Ren x fem.reader

WC  6k  *Canon Divergence, angst, slow burn, soft dom, hurt/comfort

As you softly open your eyes to the low humming of the ship. You move your hand to the rest of the empty mattress. Realizing that you are indeed alone. Fully opening them, you quickly start to remember where you were. 

Oh maker, I'm in his room.. 

Now fully awake at the realization, you slowly remember the previous night, having a hard time processing it. Your chest was suddenly moving quicker, knowing how much of a traitor this was making you. You were an ally to the jedis and to the resistance. Just like your parents were before you and you just slept with Kylo fucking Ren.. As you pass your hands in your hair trying to recollect yourself, you let out a deep sigh. You had just woken up and were already feeling drained. 

You finally calmed down and glanced at his empty pillow. Which gave you an instant pinch in your chest, and just like that, you can't stop your mind from going back to his soft and plumped lips. Twitching as he was moving closer. His eyes, deeply looking at you with desire. How could someone be so violent and yet this gentle? Thinking back on how the rage was consuming him as he previously choked the guard. The horror you felt seeing him igniting the red beam of his sword. The one that brought so much destruction and fear across the galaxy. 

It doesn't take long for you to hear your stomach growl. Finally getting up and out of the bed, you move slowly to the kitchen. Living life on a ship was truly a different experience than the one you had on land. You miss the warmth of the sun on your bare legs in the morning. Sunbathing on the balcony with your caf in hand. Here, the air is recycled and for some reason it is always cold. To be completely honest with yourself, the dark colors of the ship gave you more goosebumps than the cold air.  

As you’re making some eggs on the stove behind the counter, you hear the swooshing sound of the front door opening.  

Maker he's already back. You tell yourself, not being mentally prepared to face him again. You can feel your heart beating faster as the heavy steps are coming closer to the kitchen. You see a man turning the corner with a small cart. Giving you a wave of instant relief. He was tall, with dark hair and defined features. He was not only wearing the ship’s uniform. He also had the official cap and badges completing the ensemble. You stood there like a deer caught in headlights, hair all over the place with a spatula in hand. Trying to cover your thighs as much as you can with the oversize tee you're wearing. Even behind the counter, you still felt naked. 

“Oh, I am sorry miss. I didn’t.. It's usually empty. I’m simply the cleani.. I can come back later.”  

You couldn't help but smile timidly at his anxious avoidance. ´He looks really cute’, telling yourself as you're trying to focus. “It’s okay. I’m actually new here, kind of.. You can carry on, I was going out anyway.” 

The man takes a moment, staring at you as you return to your cooking. After a moment you peek at him through the fallen hair hiding parts of your face. “Yes?” 

He clears his throat, “Isn’t it a bit late to be going to work? The day shift has already started.” 

You give him a smile before replying, “I don’t have a job, yet. Like I said, I am quite new here..” 

“Right, sorry for my intrusion.” 

“Don't mind it. I enjoy your company. It has been weeks since I've talked to an actual human being and not guards or droids.” rolling your eyes sideways. 

He walks closer to the kitchen island. “Well, I’m Henry. Nice to meet you.” Smiling as he shows you his hand to shake. 

“You can call me Viper..” moving slightly forward to shake it with yours. 

“Cool, well.. I better start if I want to live for the next 24 hours.” He breathes out as he's going through his cleaning supplies.  

“Do you know where I can find work?” 

He looks at you before answering, “Well I heard they need help in electric. Wiring, to be precise. I can give a word for you if it’s somethi-” 

“Yes! Please, I would really appreciate it.” cutting him off as you smile brightly. 

-- 

In the meantime, Kylo Ren was sitting in his office with his chair turned and facing the window. The light coming from it was softly hitting half of his face and body as he was watching the calm darkness of space. He had woken up early, not being capable of keeping himself asleep while being so close to you. He didn't want to leave the ship for duties just yet. Even though he knew absolutely nothing about you, no amount of time was enough with you. He was tested by his curiosity and now, you were all he could think about.  

I can’t keep losing control like this, trying to remind himself. He lets out a deep sigh as he rises from his chair, putting his helmet on. I’m going to be gone for a couple of weeks. That should be enough to forget about her, right? ..And her, me. 

As he’s moving through the hallways, he hears a familiar voice nearby. He halts, moving his body to the corner of the wall while listening closely. 

“Thank you for helping me clean the place that was nice of you.” A man says. 

“I told you; I enjoyed it..” The familiar voice responds gently. 

Laughing, “You must be the only one I know who does. See you around,  Viper..” As he moves away, you smile shyly to the back of him, pressing your lips together. 

A pinch in his chest makes Kylo step behind you quickly, “making friends I see.” Your blood runs cold as you hear the static of his modulated voice.  He was hovering you with his height. Looking as intimidating as the day you first saw him. His mask analyzes you as you try to keep control of yourself. You haven’t done anything wrong but somehow it felt like you did. Seeing you avoidant and playing with your shirt, makes him mad. He starts pushing you back into the wall behind you. Giving you no other choice than to fall into it. By default, you try to take as little space as you can manage between his broad arms placed on each side of your head. He had his way of making you feel small and today was no exception. “Unless he’s more than a friend..” Suggesting as he tilts his head to the side. 

“No, I was simply helping him with his tasks I swear.” answering while staring at your feet. “I don't even know him. I just met him.” 

He takes a harsh breath before removing his helmet with one hand, “look at me.” But you were too scared to look. Only give him a quick glance before returning your gaze down. “I said look at me, Viper..” Saying your name in a low, firm tone. You swallow, looking up to meet his eyes properly. They were small and dark from stress and lack of sleep. His plump lips twitching as he was staring at yours. “Viper, I have to say, it suits you well.” saying softly. “Now how does one acquire a name like that?”  

“My father gave it to me before he passed.” You say, trying your best to keep your voice steady. You didn't want to lie, but you don't want to tell the whole truth either. 

“What about the boy, mh?.. I thought we were going to be honest with one another.” 

“I met him this morning, I swear nothing happened.” you protest. 

He scowls, “well you knew nothing of me..” stating as he takes his hand to cover the side of your head before closing his eyes. As he focuses you feel the same aura and feeling you sensed while he was thrusting inside you the previous night. The white and warm light radiating around him. He was searching your mind as you randomly see memories coming to you quickly. Starting to breathe faster, you feel a drop of sweat tickling the edge of your hairline. You try to fight the invasion as much as you can, but it stops on a memory you formed this very morning. The one blushing as you saw Henry in your oversize tee. Trying to stretch the fabric down to cover your legs. Suddenly, Kylo pushes himself back, as he watches you fall on your knees.  

“You were almost naked.” he urges, his voice becoming dangerous. “What happened!?”  

“You saw what happened, why are you asking me?” saying while calming yourself down. 

“I want to hear it from you.” 

You peek at him through your fallen hair in disbelief. “He came in to clean your quarters. At first, I thought it was you. I was cooking, I thought I was alone. He presented himself and that's it. We talked about a jo-” 

“The desire..” he says angrily. 

Okay now you were extremely confused. “Desire? What desire?” 

Trying to make sense of what just happened, He takes a moment before speaking. He was used to entering people’s minds and even controlling them, but this felt weird, even for him. He was able to feel your emotions like they were his. Something he had never experienced before, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to after this. “The one you have for him.” eyes daring you to say otherwise. 

Your lips parted as you were slowly panicking. “I-I just find him cute. That’s all, I swear.” 

His hand twitched as he was looking deeply into your eyes, searching for the truth. He could see how frightened you were but also how sincere. He knew he couldn't fight it as he came back to you slowly. Bending slightly, he takes your hands and uses them to pull you back on your feet. He gently pushes the hair out of your face with the back of his fingers before passing his thumb over your lips. Staring at them, he slides his hand to grab the side of your jaw. “I have to leave for a short while, but I trust you will follow our agreement.” Seeing him clench his teeth before looking into your eyes. Fighting the urge to taste you on his lips. “You must sleep in my quarters. That is the only place I know you will be-” 

“Safe, I know. Don’t worry about me. I’m a big girl.” stating as you smile. 

“It’s not you I'm afraid of.” he grimaced, “promise me.”  

“I promise” you confirm before letting out a deep sigh. 

Without a word, he puts his helmet back on and turns away. 

What did I get myself into? 

-- 

Weeks have gone by without any news of Kylo Ren. While the crew was more relaxed and carefree, you were learning your new job stress free. Thanks to Henry’s recommendation, you were now fully working in electrical. In fact, you were already being left alone to fix some bad wiring that was previously done by a guy who allegedly died in battle. If you were completely honest with yourself, he didn’t seem to have a clue about what he was doing. It was all a mess; everything was badly connected while other pieces were simply missing. You let out a bored moan as you lay back into the corner of the tight space. Sliding down along the wall before sitting on the floor.  

You felt quite lonely on the ship. No one was really chatting with you since you were sleeping in the supreme leader’s quarters. They weren't particularly mean to you, but gossip was spreading quickly among the crew. The only friend you had was Henry and sadly, your schedules were not working in your favor. Kylo was gone for a while now and you still didn't know what you felt about him since your last encounter. 

He's a horrible man. He brought way too much destruction to the galaxy for me to fraternize with him, I just can't. 

As you examine the back of your hands placed on your knees, you remembered your last night with him. The one you have been trying for weeks to forget. His touch, his smell intoxicating you. You knew you wanted all of those again and that alone was terrifying you.  

While being lost in your thoughts, you're toying with the bracelet your sister had made you back home. Smiling to yourself, you can’t help but wonder what she would think of you if she knew you slept with literally the worst person in the galaxy and still wanted more. While rolling the threads in between your fingers, you think back to Kylo and the way he said your name, Viper.. Since your parent’s death no one has ever called you by your real name, not even your sister. They were the ones who gave it to you after a successful mission destroying one of the first order’s bases. Along with your successful mission, your codename had become your identity.  

Oh maker, it’s today..  

-- 

The day was a long one for Kylo. His only desire for weeks was to come back to the finalizer knowing you'd be there. He couldn’t wait to finally get back on his ship. He very much regretted not kissing you goodbye. You've been haunting his dreams with the smell of your hair and soft skin ever since he left. He was still trying to figure out how your connection worked. How he was able to finally see a little more in your head but also feel you the way he did. As much as he wanted not to, he quickly realized that keeping himself away from you was not the right approach. His emotions were controlling him further each day and it scared the shit out of him.  

For now, he was simply excited to see you as he moves inside his quarters. Although, the smile behind his mask quickly vanished as he glanced around the empty space. His assistant had previously confirmed that you would be here and yet you were not. Even if he wasn’t on the finalizer, he kept an eye on you. He had heard about your new job and schedule, and knew you're supposed to be done by now. He calls to double check in the electrical but apparently no one has seen you for hours. His mind draws him back quickly to the boy he saw you talking to. What if she had moved on? Did she use me? Maybe I scared her too much before leaving? What if she had escaped?  

His fears were getting the best of him as he pushed the side of his comm-link angrily, “Find her” ordering, swirling back into the hallway. 

After almost an hour of searching, a soldier comes to him. “We have found no trace of the women, Sir.” 

He sighs, “what about the tie fighters?” 

“We have stopped the departures. We also have the right numbers in inventory. No anomalies have been reported with the ones who did leave earlier today, Sir.” the men stated. 

“This means she's still on board.” Getting angrier thinking of the memory he read out of you before leaving. The way you felt seeing that boy, the desire. “You don’t stop until you find her.” Commanding him as his fingernails were digging into the leather of his gloved palms. 

The trooper nods before turning away quickly to inform the others. Meanwhile, Kylo was trying to calm himself down, but it was useless. He could visualize you kissing the boy like you kissed him. Giving yourself the way, you did with him. He did not know much about you; he didn't know how much he could trust you.  

As he's spiraling, he feels a soft breeze on his skin. Which is odd since he is covered from head to toe with fabric. The goosebumps were going right up the nape of his neck. Without hesitation he starts following the energy that is pulling him. The sensation felt cold and blue the closer he got to it. After a moment, he finally stops in front of a closet door with a hand going to his hip. Unaware of what's on the other side, he unclips his lightsaber before bracing himself in a combat position. He takes a deep breath in, moving his hand to the control panel on the side. The moment it opens, his gaze is automatically drawn to you, sitting on the floor. He slowly drops his arms as he watches you bring your red, puffy eyes to him. The rage that was boiling inside him, was now completely gone. You looked at him in shock, thinking you were going to die for a moment there. Still silent, he pulls his helmet off.  

“You're back..” you say sniffling. 

“What happened?” asking softly. 

Instead of answering, you move your gaze down. Wrapping your arms around your legs and bringing them closer to your body. 

“Did someone do something to you? Are you hurt?” tensing as he questioned. 

You lightly shake your head, “no, it's just me. I remembered a bad day, a sad day.”  

He presses his lips, unsure of what to do before entering the small, confined closet. His body quickly fills the tight space as he walks to you, squatting down to your level before he pushes the hair out of your face. “I can't help you if you don't tell me, hyal.” 

You could see how genuine he was, but you didn't want to talk about it. You had tried your best over the years not to let it affect you, but it was almost impossible on days like this one. 

“My parents..” you couldn't stop the tears from falling down your cheeks, your voice still full of emotions. “They died on this day. I just miss them so much and I feel so alone.” 

He takes a moment looking at you, “I'm sorry for your parents.” Pushing the hair out of your face, “but you're not, you're not alone.”  

You dry your eyes with the back of your sleeve, trying to smile. 

He lets you take a moment to come back to yourself before pressing the side of his comm-link on his wrist. “I found her, you can stop the search. I’ll take it from here.”  

He lets out a sigh looking straight at you. “Are you ready to go?”  

You nod as he helps you get back on your feet. “What did you mean by stop the search?” 

“You're a difficult one to find” he says, giving you a soft smirk. 

-- 

As you enter his quarters, you realize that he didn’t put his helmet back on. Noticing his eyes with better lighting. They looked more tired than usual. He quickly glanced at you before moving towards the bathroom. “I need to take a shower, I'll be back.”  

Being finally alone again, you remain unmoved. Closing your eyes in an attempt to re-center yourself. Your reunion happened as weirdly as his departure. You didn’t want to talk to him about how they died or how he is part of the issue. By fear, you also did not want to mention how much you're missing your sister. The First Order was the reason of your parent's death and you promised yourself that it would never be hers. Although, some of you felt happy that Kylo was back. You just wished that he had found you in better circumstances.  

What was he like before becoming Supreme Leader? Was he always in the First Order? Probably not, otherwise he wouldn’t be as gentle as he is with you, right? 

While you were changing out of your work clothes, you couldn't help but smile softly thinking about him. You liked having him near you. Even though he made you feel a little anxious at times.  

He came out of his shower already fully clothed. Catching him pass in front of the bedroom door, he was moving to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water from the sink.  

You can't help but notice how imposing and stoic he looks even out of his combat clothes. The muscles of his chest and arms being noticeable through the fabric of his shirt. His hair, still damped from the shower, falls on his face as he turns the faucet off. Maker, am I blushing? 

You sigh, climbing into bed before moving under the covers. As you make yourself comfortable, you see him pass through the door and coming to the edge of the bed to sit with you. 

“How did it go while I was gone?” He asks before taking a sip from his cup. 

“Did you not see me cry my eyes out?” replying sarcastically. 

“I did, but surely you didn’t cry for weeks. Did you?” 

“No, of course not. I worked, how about you?” 

“Good, it was a long one.” looking briefly at you. 

“Can I ask you something?” He doesn’t say a word as he waits for your question. “Are your parents still alive?” 

He tenses up, turning his gaze down to the glass of water in his hand. “My mother.. but I don't know where she is.”  

“I’m sorry to hear it. Is she not?” You didn’t know how to ask. 

“In the First Order? No, no she's not.. ” 

You press your lips, “Kylo? What does, hyal means?” you questioned closing your eyes, not being able to keep them open any longer. 

He raises his eyes to you in surprise. “Why so many questions?” putting his glass of water on the nightstand before joining you under the covers. 

“I just want to know you more..” mumbling, letting your mouth part slightly as you fall asleep. 

He smiles softly, pushing the hair out your face. You were already breathing deeper while he looked at your pillowy lips. The ones he has been craving for weeks. He leans in, pressing them gently with his. Being careful not to disturb you in your sleep. He takes a deep breath in, “I also miss them, every day.” Before closing his eyes as well. 

-- 

The next morning, you wake up to the sound of hot crinkling oil in a pan. As you sit up and rub your eyes, you hear Kylo let out a high muffled scream. You quickly pull away the covers before running to the kitchen, seeing him clenching his hand tightly. 

“Are you okay?” voice panicked. 

“It's okay, I just burned myself. You can go back to sleep.” trying not to sound in pain. 

You walk to him, now fully awake. “Don't be stupid. How could I possibly go back to sleep knowing you're suffering. Can I have a look?” looking straight at him. 

He hesitates, pressing his lips before opening his hand slowly to you. As you look closer to the injury, you examine the serious burn. A vivid red line was drawn across his palm. “Here put it under cold water. It will stop the heat from burning through the other layers of skin.” moving towards the kitchen faucet. “You need to always keep the handle away from the heat when cooking.” He puts his hand under the low pressured water. Slightly moaning as he feels an instant relief.  

He raised an eyebrow as he watched you with a first aid kit. Putting it on the counter before starting the burner again. He stares at you confused, “Are you not going to help me?” 

“You need to stop the burn before putting the bacta on. Otherwise, you'll only heal the top layers.” rolling your eyes at him. 

He doesn't comment on your attitude as he smirks softly. Being kind of surprised at your knowledge of the matter. “And, how do you know all of this?” 

Not responding, you give him a smile as he's watching you do his cooking. Admiring you from a distance. He noticed how nervous you were with him but, the truth is, he was too. You never really talked about what happened the night before he left, and he too wanted to know you more. 

He clears his throat anxiously, “You know. The day I left you were talking to a man.” 

“Henry?” 

“I guess, yes. Have you, seen him again?”  

Looking up to meet his eyes, “He’s only a friend, I told you.” closing the burner, you turn around. Grabbing the first aid kit as he turns off the faucet. Meanwhile, you took the bacta out of the metal box before spraying it on his wound. He grimaced while the bacta was already taking effect. As you his hand with some bandages, he can’t help himself from staring at you. Your hair was still all over the place from the chaotic morning. Strands falling down your face, some sticking up, but he couldn't care less. Suddenly a weird sensation comes to his chest as he pushes one of your hair strands to see your face better. 

You meet his gaze smiling brightly, “Here, all done..”  

He doesn’t waste a second, taking the side of your neck. Holding you still as he leans in closer, kissing you full lips.  

You don’t stop him as he moans sweetly into your mouth. “You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do this..” 

“Tell me more.” 

He sighs softly, “I wanted to see you, smell you, touch you.” moving his hands gently to your middle back. “You're all I could think about.” 

“I also thought about you every-” You didn’t have time to finish your sentence, that he starts kissing you again, caressing your tongue inside with his. 

You laugh, stopping him. “I can’t, I have to work.” Protesting as you try to move away. 

“Work? But I just came back. I can make you miss work if that’s the issue.” You don’t really listen to him as you’re now inside the bedroom, changing into your work clothes. “You seem to forget that I'm the supreme leader. This is my ship, and I can do whatever I want.” 

You roll your eyes, “Yeah, I know..” You watch him come closer as you sit on the edge of the bed to put your boots on. He takes the other one from your hand before throwing it aside. “Hey, stop, I need to go. I'm going to be late.” 

He's not listening as he kneels in front of you spreading your legs. “Stay with me hyal.” 

“You still haven’t told me what it meant..” closing your eyes to his hands roaming your hips and ass. 

You could feel his hardness on the edge of your pussy, “to crave.” answering you, slowly unzipping the front of your uniform. 

Your heart beats faster but you try to stay on track. “What language is that? I never heard it.” 

“Sith”  

You stop him before he unzips it fully, managing to wiggle yourself free. “I really need to go. I can't be late.” 

He watches you grab your boots from the floor, “Have I done something wrong again?” eyes worried. 

As you look at Kylo, you feel heaviness in your chest “What? No..” moving quickly to the living room. “I just like seeing people and having somewhat of a normal life.” glancing at him awkwardly, “and I like the job, okay? I will see you later.”  

Before you could leave, he grabs your arm. “I’m sorry that I cannot let you go, yet.. I also need to follow orders.” saying eyes in pain. 

You simply nod, walking away to the entrance.  Feeling an energy moving through your hair, you turn your head back. Only seeing the side of his face as he goes back to the bedroom.  

-- 

You can hear your stomach calling for food entering the cafeteria. You felt bad lying to Kylo about being late, but you were not ready to sleep with him again. Hearing him speak Sith made uneasy. A reminder that you're just a prisoner on his ship. How many girls did he had this way? He probably lied to you about you being the only one. Surely that can't be true. He is one of the most powerful men in the galaxy, how could you possibly be his first taste of flesh? 

It doesn't matter, because it won't happen again.. 

Taking a tray, you get in line. Today was your favorite; spinach quiche with ham bits. Plus, they always had these little roasted potatoes on the side that you love so much. You had to admit, the finalizer did have some good food. Way better than the sludge you used to eat in battle camps back home. 

As you're waiting your turn, you sense a finger tapping your shoulder. Automatically you feel your body tense, scared to even look back. Turning around, you're being greeted by Henry. “It's been a while.” he says with a broad smile. 

You don't know why, but you feel a little disappointed seeing him. You don’t know if it's because you haven't seen him for a while but he's making you blush a little. Maybe it was the way he looked so effortlessly put together. Whatever the reason, it felt good to see him again. 

“It's you who has been hiding, I'm always near.” you state playfully. 

“Yeah, I've been learning how to pilot on top of my usual job. It does take a lot of my time these days.”  

Well, I'm happy that you're okay, I was starting to get worried.” 

There's a moment of silence before he clears his throat. “Would you like to join us?” Pointing to a round table with two man and a woman also wearing the crew's uniform. 

You nod while taking back your tray from the lunch guy’s hands. For weeks, you have been eating alone and so the invitation was a nice welcome, especially from him. As soon as you sat down, all eyes were on you, along with the tension floating in the air.  

“Everyone, this is Viper. A friend of mine, she's in electrical.” Presenting you to the small group. 

Immediately, the woman steps in. “The supreme leader’s favorite..” 

“Did you say Viper?” One of the two men asks, cutting her off. Looking at Henry through his glasses, eyes wide open. 

“Yes?” He replies raising his eyebrow in curiosity. 

The bearded man leans forward to shake your hand. “It's truly an honor to meet you miss. I'm Jon. I was there, fighting by your side on N12.” 

“I'm not sure I'm following” says the woman, tying her dark hair in a ponytail. 

The man turns to her. “She’s on our side.” He looks around, “she destroyed 2 enemy bases.” 

“Not here Jon” the other man says anxiously, “it's not safe..” 

Henry turns to you quickly, “you never mentioned it before.” 

“Well, we haven't been hanging out much either..” you mocked. 

“Henry, you're making her uncomfortable.” Pulling her hair tighter. 

He looks at her unfazed, “I'm the one making her uncomfortable?” 

“Yes, I was just stating the facts. She is his favorite; otherwise, why would he keep her in his quarters mh?” 

You can sense all eyes coming back on you. There's a part of you that wished she was right, but you knew that he had different motives. “He simply wants to keep his eye on me, and he also doesn't trust the guards.” 

“With reasons.” she says smirking, “I'm Eira by the way. this is Lars.” pointing to the middle-aged man with a full beard and hair tied in a bun sitting next to Jon. “He doesn't talk much but he's really sweet.” 

You simply smile as you're finishing your plate.  

“I'm curious Viper, how is it sharing your space with a Solo?” eyes staring up at you while she brought the fork to her mouth. 

“A what?” you respond confused. 

“Ben, the son of Han and Leia?” Jon replies. 

“What do you mean?” Brow's frowning. 

They all look at each other before she replies, “Kylo Ren is Ben Solo, the son of Han Solo and Leia Organa.” 

Your eyes widen in shock, “How? What? How did he end up here?” Questioning quickly. 

Jon shakes his head slightly, “last time I saw Ben with his parents, was the night before he left with his uncle, Luke.” He takes a sip from his cup, “I served Princess Leia for most of my life before being captured and imprisoned here. I have been away from home 3years now.” 

Your eyes saddened to his words, “that's horrible..” being cut off by a bell. 

The worker's alarm went off before Eira could take her last bite. “We should get going if we don't want to be late” 

-- 

As you put your tray in the bin, Henry stays close by. Waiting for you to be done to walk you to your job. “You don't have to do that; you know that right?" 

He gives you one of his genuine smiles. “I'm sorry I couldn't keep up with you. I am, truly.” He stops in the middle of the now empty hallway with everyone already taking their stations.  

“It's okay, don't worry about it. C’mon, we'll be late.” 

But he grabs your wrist. Looking deeper into your eyes, caressing your hand with the back of his fingers. He doesn't waste his time, leaning forward almost kissing, “Would you come meet me tonight at the control bri..” 

“Are you okay?” 

Henry’s eyes were beginning to look scared. His hands moving towards his throat, trying to remove something that wasn't there, fully choking and fighting for air. As you turn your head, you see a masked Kylo moving around the corner with a hand extended towards Henry. 

“STOP! YOU’RE GOING TO KILL HIM!” Yelling as he walks in your direction.  

“That's the point” saying dry and cold.  

“Please Kylo!” but your pleas were useless as his body stays put. “Please stop, I beg you!” 

He turns his helmet quickly to you, “go on..” 

“What?” 

“What do you propose?”  

You were taken aback. You didn't think about that. “I- I'll do whatever you want.” your heart skipping a beat as you say the words. 

He looks back at Henry, who is slowly turning colors. “This is your lucky day.” Finally releasing him and letting him fall to his knees. “Go!” Kylo stressed before you see Henry get back on his feet clumsily and run away as fast as he can. 

You let out a sigh, “that was unnecessary..” 

He turns to you, his tall and broad frame hovering over you. “I heard your thoughts..” 

“Yes, it's normal to have them” looking up to him. 

“Yeah well, your desir-”  

*”Sir Ren, meeting at 10 with the counc..”* Getting cut off by a transmission. 

“Not now General, move it for tomorrow.” 

*“Sir, I'm afraid-”* 

“I have an important matter on hand.” Starting to get impatient and annoyed. 

*”I would hardly qualify a poor slave girl as impor-”// “General Hux!” 

“As you wish, Sir Ren..” his voice sounding bitter. 

As soon as the transmission ended, Kylo quickly turned all his attention back on you.  

“You, come with me..”  

--

If you wish to be added to the Taglist, you can do so by letting me know here

[physalian]

The Woes of Formatting

I am… 22 hours into formatting ENNS for print (now ebook) and am making this post for posterity’s sake to say: Formatting is so. Tedious. I had to start over thanks to Amazon going “ha you didn’t set your margins properly,” and also some last-minute changes to the text. Yesterday (7/24/24) after a full day of work, I worked on Book from 2:30pm to 11:30pm. Today is probably going to be about the same.

My neck hurts from staring at my monitor, my pinkie hurts from the strain of holding a computer mouse in one position since 6am. I have forgotten to cook lunch and dinner, but I did have breakfast.

It doesn’t even feel real yet. I am exhausted. But you know what feels great? Eliminating widows and orphans on the pages to erase the page count only by one. If you don’t know, those are the little hanging words on the bottom line of a paragraph or the top of a page that can be resized to fit on the line above it.

Getting to the last page of the chapter and realizing there’s only 3 or 4 lines of text left eating up an entire piece of paper, and then scrolling back through the chapter like a madwoman to nudge other paragraphs around to eliminate that extra page… I was literally cheering in my room in satisfaction.

For the record it shouldn’t take you this long, but I wanted it to be pretty, and Amazon is incredibly precise with their formatting requirements down to 0.001inches. So I had to reformat the cover art, which took a while. Then I had to fix the margins at least 3 times until no more errors showed up. Then I had to reread the entire book for last-minute changes. Then I had to format the chapter header pages.

Before that, though, I had to make the art for the chapter header pages. And re-learn how to do all of the formatting on InDesign.

So here I am, 22 hours in, finally onto the ebook that will be done tonight goddamn. And I just want to say, if it’s within your power to do as much of the work yourself as you can, fucking do it.

I’d be losing my mind with stress if I was waiting for a cover artist to make adjustments whenever they deigned to find my order a priority. Or the person I’d be paying to format this book. Losing. My. Mind. Maybe after the ridiculous goose chase I have been on with editors for this book has completely murdered my faith in paid beta readers to do shit in a timely manner (ENNS' first draft was written in 31 days, it took from 2/25/24 to 6/10 for my tiny army of betas and the AWOL failed betas to deliver, then 6 weeks for the professional copy edit). Anyway.

Yeah it’s taken me a long ass time, on top of two full corporate-nonsense workdays, but the satisfaction I have felt hammering this project out isn’t comparable to paying someone to do it for me. I got the manuscript back from my copy editor and I wasn’t excited, I was like “I needed this 10 days ago thanks” (in my head) and then got right back to work. Copy editor is necessary, don’t get me wrong, it’s absolutely necessary, but the catharsis that I have now was definitely absent then.

So. Yeah. This is rambly and I’m not sorry. Even after the ebook is up for preorder there’s still work to be done and money to be spent. But I’m forcing myself to take a break, pause, breathe, appreciate the work I have already done.

I am hours away from launching my first published novel. Hours.

It doesn’t feel real. August 25th, 2024, Eternal Night of the Northern Sky's official release date. Gahhhhhhh.

—

For anyone curious:

Cover was done in Photoshop (I have the Lightroom student package for $9.99/mo)

Formatting was done in InDesign (%#&%# $35.99/mo after 7 day trial choke on rocks, Adobe)

Formatting did not need to be done in ID, but other one-time fees were either more expensive when I can cancel my subscription after the month is up, or the free versions were too limited and constricting in their capabilities.

I’m far too nitpicky to not have complete creative freedom and control over my work, with all the hours I have put in. So Adobe it is.

Back to work!

[dead-girl-prolific]

Life Update (End of Hiatus?)

trigger warnings; topics of debilitating depression, Mental health, Mentions of drug misuse (ODing), mention of Mental Hospital visits, mention of a toxic relationship, concerning amount of over-sleeping, diagnoses, mentions of ED

I'm so sorry for not posting recently. I know it's been well over six months since I've posted anything. I've been going through a lot recently. I have a decent amount of things to go over, but for now, we'll just start with where I've been and what I've been doing these past nine-ish months.

April - August

In early April, I got out of a semi-toxic relationship. I don't want to disclose exactly how it was toxic. After that relationship ended, I took a hiatus from Tumblr and Discord; I started distracting myself with video games and in-game friendships. I spent most of my time gaming around early April all the way through May and I moved out of my guardian's house and back in with my biological mother in June.

I almost immediately fell into a deep depression and started sleeping 24/7, I remember 2 weeks after moving and getting settled there was a period where I was sleeping over 110 hours a week, one time I even slept for 2 days straight. I was struggling with romantic relationships a lot in late July. on top of that, my mental state wasn't the best and I was freshly unmedicated around the end of July to the first few days of August.

August - November/December

August 10th I landed myself in a mental hospital for a couple of days. I got out on August 19th, was put on new medications, and was finally fully diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder. I started a mental health program/alternative school and was there for about 4-5 weeks and was diagnosed with ADHD. my mom pulled me from the program because she and my therapist agreed it wasn't helping me much. During this program, I made my first OD attempt.

October 15th i was sent to another mental hospital from my second OD. I was there until October 24th, was put on different medications. My mom made an appointment for me to go back to my program. I was accepted and went back to November 1st. I made significant progress and attempted to get better. I learned a lot, I grew, and I changed. I stayed at the program for 7 weeks and finally graduated (I'm still going to the treatment, it's just less Extensive). All throughout the past 4-5 months I’ve been struggling with Eating Disorders I’m not going to specify but because of it I have had a very inconsistent weight which I am still struggling with, I haven’t talked to anyone about it, I’ve tried in the past, it’s just not something I can find a lot of support/understanding or even help for so I’m dealing with it on my own.

Social media;

I haven't returned to discord; I don't see myself returning to discord soon.

I've completely deleted my Instagram account and the app. I don't think im returning to Instagram either, at least not for a while. I don't have any social media besides Tumblr and Pinterest.

• Explanation: I feel like I owe it to myself to be free of distractions while trying to work on myself. I feel like social media was only making it harder for me. However, I've decided on keeping Tumblr and all my writing/reading sites (Wattpad, AO3, and Quotev) because I genuinely want to get better at writing and I want writing to become a good outlet for me, that and I feel like it'll be easier now that I'm living in a more stable environment. I feel like writing isn't taxing on me and I enjoy doing it. I love creating, although I don't draw as much as I used to.

recently;

I've been going through a lot of personal changes and perspective changes. I've realized a lot about my childhood and my previous living conditions. I've also become increasingly more aware of myself, obviously I'm not 100% aware of everything yet (regarding myself/habits, etc.) my therapist has told me we're going to look into a sixth diagnosis (Bipolar B or 2) when I've worked on myself more, I still have a lot of hurdles to jump before I get diagnosed with something like that. Mainly, I need to work on my BPD symptoms in order to tell if I have an underlying diagnosis (bipolar) as well.

BUT — I have been doing SO SO SO much better recently, I'm about to start senior year (i only have 4.5 credits left till I'm able to graduate.) when I finish Senior year I'll probably work towards getting my drivers license and getting a job.

also- I got my lip pierced today lol—

I will be posting one more Update after this one, be ready!

love you guys!!

[jadeandroses]

Ao3 wrapped, @astralithium edition!

Covers:

Beyond the Final Frontier, chapters 16, 18, 19, & 24-27

your fate is mine

(practiced) ease

the only way to bring me down

pulse failure

two swords

rainbow

on second glance

nowhere to be

1. Final word count: 78,242. Most of it went to the most difficult chapters of Beyond I have ever written. Seriously. I complained so much over 19 and 24, but they turned out okay.

2. 8 works this year! Though admittedly, it weren’t for that spite induced writing coma last week, it would’ve been 4

3. Honestly? I’m most proud of nowhere to be. That had been kicking my butt since March, and then all of a sudden it just clicked, and I’m so happy it did

4. My most hit is Beyond. Not really a competition, though, considering it has 24 chapters compared to the usual 1-3.

5. bring me down got way more feedback than expected! I thought for sure it would fade into the background considering how nuts the tf fandom was in the wake of One’s release (and given the prevalence of the M*gop shippers)—but it did unexpectedly well, and I’m proud of it

6. practiced ease is my favorite title, because I feel like it tells the story before you even read it. Second is pulse failure, because it actually uses the knowledge I got working at the car wash

7. There wasn’t one specific artist I used for chapter titles, but bring me down, rainbow, and nowhere to be all got their titles from songs:

8. I only wrote for Mareach and Oplita this year—though since two swords was written three years ago, and because Beyond also features Mareach, I think I technically gotta give “most written” to Mareach.

9. Favorite ship I wrote for? I can’t pick—not only did both ships practically raise me, but I feel like they’re the same ship with two different endings. I can’t pick!

10. on second glance took the least amount of time. First line to posting took about three hours. (Unfortunately it was 2 am)

11. (Excluding Beyond because it’s still ongoing,) nowhere to be took the longest. I attempted to write it in March, but scrapped it until December. Second longest goes to bring me down at three months, third to your fate is mine with two and a half

12. At least two in the list for next year—but I’m sure inspiration for more will come to me sooner rather than later.

13. *gestures vaguely to Beyond* Long enough for ya?

14. Shortest is rainbow, by four words. Second shortest is, hilariously, on second glance

15. Beyond, my baby, will be coming with me into 2025—don’t get me wrong, I might complain, but I love that this fic is basically my brand as a writer.

16. “fluff without plot”—I’m getting very close to adding it to Beyond

17. TF One Elita was the easiest to write. I was shocked by how well I could step into her shoes

18. Hardest? Easily one little Miles Tails Prower. My god WHY is his voice so difficult to capture well

19. Shoot. I wanna write Luiaisy. I just have a hard time coming up with original ideas, ya know? Their fandom’s already so good at it

20. I thought bring me down would age poorly, so I keep rereading it expecting the quality to go down. I’m surprised by how it hasn’t yet.

21. Ao3 counts all of Beyond toward this year, even the parts I uploaded last year, so my total kudos for this year is 540. Ik that’s not accurate but I like the number

22. Again, you cant really compete with Beyond because it’s so big—just passed 100 comments—but I am amazed by how well bring me down has done in that regard—53!

23. No, but I’d like to collaborate with people next year! (I’m just shy)

24. …shoot, does bring me down count as a gift for Odette? Since it was technically her idea?

25. Nope!

26. Gen fic is my most common. Mostly I write what I wanted to read as a kid, I think

27. Beyond and bring me down have their own playlists. Usually, if I’m writing anything else, it’s because there’s a song stuck in my head, so I’ll listen to that

28. Honestly, I appreciate them all—but pulse failure was so niche, and I actually got to write it while inside my car wash, so that one’s got a special place in my heart.

29. Favorite passages are a tie between this bit from Beyond—

—and this one from bring me down

30. Honestly? What’s surprised me most is just how many friends I’d make doing this. Thank you guys for being here, and I hope you’ll all stick around.

Love y’all

-jadeandroses/astralithium

[okara-illustrates]

It’s good you love asks (what it says on your askbox) because I love sending ’em. >:3

So how did you get into taekwondo? Parents signed you up on a whim? Classmates were doing it?

And how did you get into art? Like what was your process to learn, what did you do? Would you do anything differently if you could change any of your methods/steps?

GASP!! AN ASK!!! AFTER ALL THESE YEARS!!! AHHHHH

okokok I’m adhd I will ramble bear with me

Taekwondo:

I remember the day my mom signed us up for taekwondo very vividly. She had her big old Mac computer out. It was 10 years ago, so it was like it looked like a monitor essentially. She was scrolling through a list of sports trying to find something that my brother and I would enjoy. As she was scrolling down, I saw the word taekwondo, and I was extremely intrigued. So I asked her if we could do that I knew it was some sort of martial art, but I wasn’t entirely sure what it was, but I was willing to try it. Since she’s Korean, we already had ties to it so she was like OK sure so she found us a little Dojang and we began our lessons. I see yours went by my love for the sport grew and grew. By that time we had become close friends with our coaches as they like to be called. It’s easier to call them that. And eventually we became part of the competition team. It was a three-year commitment for nationals so we would be we would train and go to nationals three years in a row and then we were done unless we want to continue through our couple years of training with the team we grew closer than family like cousins like we saw this group of athletes day in a day out 4-5x a week 5+ hours a day. We went camping together we did team bonding activities together. We quite literally shed blood sweat and tears together we worked hard together we pushed each other. We laughed together. We cried together. It was a whole another kind of experience that was great until Covid hit. Once Covid hit, my family went from being busy all the time 24 seven with not even really a day of rest in the week to absolutely nothing and to me although I’m an extrovert it was thrilling. I loved it. But it meant that we couldn’t do taekwondo because it was a close contact sport you know so nationals was shut down for a while. I didn’t even get to go to nationals. I actually got kicked off the team because I didn’t like to put in the work except we were so close with my coach who by that time was diagnosed with stage four cancer he had me trained with the team anyway. So I technically wasn’t really kicked off but officially I was. He probably pushed me the hardest out of the entire team, even though I did not like to work all that much and my confidence had dropped like a rockin in the ocean. It was really bad, but I knew that he just wanted to see me succeed, and he just cared a lot, especially since you know it was pretty. It was pretty bad. I’m a speech to texting this by the way because I wrote a whole thing out and then Tumblr deleted it so yeah. Anyway, once Covid letter I got to see my coach a couple more times before he passed away in June and and that just rocked our team in a bad way. We kind of trauma bonded over it because we were all just so close together that it felt like losing a family member but not one of those like distant relative family members but someone who is very very close to us. Half of us got their black belts two months before he passed away, which really sucks because they didn’t have the closure that the other half of us got after a new master took over our school and we got to work at our black belts as a sort of tribute to our coach and I need to get some of those guys out of their house cause I don’t think they’re doing so well with it. But yeah, so that’s my little taekwondo history you know these past 10 years have been life-changing. I wouldn’t have changed it for the world it sucked yeah but also I grew a lot and without taekwondo. I seriously wouldn’t be the person. I am today if you read all this, I commend you you deserve a gold star. I don’t have a gold star, but you deserve one. I’m sure there’s one at dollar store or something. I don’t know OK now onto to art!!

My art journey ironically started in Covid. I’ve always kind of had a little liking to doodling characters, but I never really was serious about it. It’s just like every kid doodling you know I wasn’t special. I wasn’t talented. I didn’t you know have all the supplies I didn’t have classes. I’ve the only art class I’ve taken was a watercolor thing, and it didn’t teach me very much other than hues and values. I’m a self taught artist. But when Covid hit suddenly I went for being incredibly busy to having nothing to do at all so since my brain was an occupied with tae kwon do and homework and missing birthday parties and all that I had so many creative ideas that I wanted to get out on paper so I could see But being the non talented kid with absolutely no artistic skill, I had to really work at it. It took three years before I was happy with my arm. It was really grueling, but I had to give myself grace you know and be like hey my art is shit right now but it’s not always gonna be like that so I’m just gonna keep working at it and it’s OK that it’s shit Because I’m learning and as the months went by I wouldn’t see the improvement for months at a time it took a long time what I do was I look up human art references or like the drawing like the drawing references and stuff and I trace them and I trace and trace and trace and trace trace until it became muscle Memory Once it became muscle memory, and I had a basic understanding of human anatomy I would use references instead of tracing, so I just kind of built. I kind of took those baby steps. I was building up to the point where I could draw the human body without references just a drawing, helped a lot with that and at first when I first weaned myself off of tracing it looked horrible as you know it does when you’re a beginner, but I refuse to let that hinder me because I was learning and I gave myself grace for that. I don’t think I would really change anything. I did for my art journey, other than figuring out shading and lighting sooner and backgrounds cause I suck at those, but That doesn’t mean I’m necessarily bad at art or I should never continue being an artist because I suck at something, that’s just an untruth that we tell ourselves often times we suck at something so badly and we have such a high opinion of ourselves that we think that we should be good at everything on the first try and if we’re not, we think well I will never be able to get up to ____’s level. And that’s something that a lot of beginner artist struggle with and that’s why a lot of people quit because they think that they don’t have talent, but it is not about talent. It’s about skill and skill. Takes a lot of time to build up and that’s where a lot of artists drop off because experience artist tell them practice practices practice that practice what you need to And because there’s no really set instructions other than practice a lot of people think well I can’t do it when that’s not really true because I started out as the most average kid artistic skill like I was not talented at all I started out on the same base level as everyone else I just had to drive to do it and that’s the difference if that makes sense, but yeah, there’s my little spiel Again if you read this I commend you because I ramble a lot anyway yeah. :33

This is probably my favorite ask that anyone’s ever sent me. Thank you.

[lovesosweeet]

better left unsaid // cth

chapter twenty three

in which orion has leukemia, and calum doesn’t know.

calum hood x fem!oc

read other chapters

september 4, 2018 los angeles, california orion 

Being alive right now is exhausting. If I could, I’d sleep 10 hours every night, but the fact is, I wake up every few hours to throw up or with intense body aches that make it impossible to lay comfortably. It’s not comfortable to do anything, but it’s far too uncomfortable to sleep. 

My body is at war with itself, or, I guess, with the chemotherapy drugs coursing through my veins. Just like I’m fighting for my life, my body itself is at battle, too. It’s an awful feeling to know that even my organs are working against me now, on top of dealing with being in a temporary long distance relationship. The blood coursing through my veins contains the evidence of my impending death, and the poison mixing with it is there to make my life just a little bit longer, but far more painful.

Sometimes I wonder if going through with treatment even matters. 

Leukemia is a death sentence. There’s no way to sugarcoat it. Is it worth feeling like pure shit every day until I die? How much better is my life if all that I’m doing to extend it is also making me feel worse?

My mind is at war with itself too. 

I can’t figure out whether I’m excited for or dreading the day that Calum and I reunite in San Diego. I am looking forward to having him as a support system in everything after dealing with this without him for over a month now. I am looking forward to getting to spend time with my favorite human being on this planet. I am looking forward to seeing his smile and smelling his cologne and holding his hand and watching him perform and hugging him as tight as I can.

I’m not looking forward to crushing him with the fact that I’ve been lying to him, by omission, about my life. I dread the look on his face when I tell him that I have cancer. I dread having to hear him fall apart while the fact that I’m dying settles in. Calum is going to be devastated, just like everyone else in my life has been. He’s going to be generally upset with me for not telling him. He’s going to wish I’d told him as soon as I’d found out and he’s going to go into recluse mode, mulling all the facts over in silence and battling all of his feelings about the news. 

There’s still a piece of me that wants to call him right now and beg him to come home. What wouldn’t I give to have him here right now? In some alternate universe, he’d be taking care of me 24/7, coming with me to every chemo appointment and bringing me fresh water whenever I ask. He’d be up with me at all hours, holding my hair back while I vomit for the twelfth time each day. He’d have saltine crackers on autoship to arrive every few days. I wouldn’t have to do anything for myself and I wouldn’t have to do anything alone.

That’s one of the worst parts. While I’m in emotional turmoil with my choice not to tell Calum and him on tour and my body is processing both cancer and poison, I feel so alone. 

Emelia helps. My family helps. Macy helps. People are showing up for me constantly, consistently, but the majority of my time is still alone. I wish I could talk about everything and have someone with me just to keep me company, but I can’t. I’m alone. I’m lonely. I’m dying. I’m depressed. I feel awful, mentally and physically. All I want is Calum, but everything I’ve done for the past month has been putting space between myself and him.

I’ve fucked myself over, plain and simple. 

Today is my final round of chemo for this cycle, and while I know I’ll still feel like pure shit for a few weeks, it’s nice to have reached this mile marker. 

I take my shower before I get ready to head to the hospital. I woke up at 5 am, puking a few times before giving up on trying to go back to bed. I took a long shower, standing under the near-boiling hot water for almost an hour. It was nice to feel something, even if it was the sensation of almost burning my skin with water. 

Then my heart felt like the most fragile scrap of paper when I got dressed.

I’d gone to Calum’s side of the closet, as I have almost every day since he left, to grab a hoodie. It’s a random Liverpool football hoodie that he’s probably worn a grand total of two times in my presence, but it’s clean and it’s thick and cozy, so it meets my criteria. It doesn't smell like him, but it's not hard to imagine that it does. I can pretend it smells of faint cigarettes, coffee, pine needles, and honey: everything that reminds me of him.

As I grab the hoodie from his shelf of things, a piece of paper falls to the floor. Apparently it was hidden in the folds of the worn-out green cotton. I recognize Calum’s favorite blue pen scribbled on a scrap of notebook paper and pick up the note instantly.

O,I guess you’ve worked your way down the stack of hoodies. I don’t know how long it’s taken you to get to this point, but know that that means we’re that much closer to being able to be skin to skin, hand in hand, eye to eye, and heart to heart. 

I know it’s hard to believe, since I’m writing this before I leave, but I swear to you: I miss you so much. I haven’t even left and I already miss you.

Fuck, how pathetic am I? Do you see my tearstains?

I am irrevocably and inconsolably in love with you. I will miss you any second of any minute we spend apart. I can only imagine — dread — how much I will be missing you by the time you read this.

I know hardly any of this will be news to you, but I can’t leave without having pieces of my love for you buried around our home. I’m guessing this will be the first you find, but hopefully you’ll find the others soon.

Can’t promise the others won’t be as sappy as this. Just need you to know just how much I miss you.

I am infinitely yours. With all my goddamn love,Cal.

next chapter

[rivetgoth]

i just got top surgery, if you can could you tell me about the whole process for you? i dont have any specific questions i need answered

Omg congrats on your surgery first of all!!

And sure!

I’m not sure which specific part of the process you’re curious about but I’m gonna focus on aftercare and recovery since I assume that would be your main focus right now.

I got double incision with free nipple grafts and drains. The moment I saw my chest for the first time I just remember feeling this sort of contentment and relief. Like “Oh, this is how it’s supposed to look.” The hospital I went to required patients to stay overnight so my first ~24 hours post-op were in a hospital bed hooked up to IV. I’m extremely grateful for this because by coincidence (the overnight stay was already planned in advance) I had a bad reaction to the anesthetic. I was entirely safe, nothing scary, but it causes me severe nausea and exhaustion and I didn’t feel loopy at all, just absolutely awful. I didn’t really sleep at all that night, I lay there falling asleep in weird short intervals, waking up, needing to pee, then stumbling back to bed. At one point I walked into the bathroom and it was covered in blood. I was so drugged out of my mind that I couldn’t really process it, it felt like I was dreaming.

After that the healing process was pretty easy though. I was prescribed antibiotics for like 10 days, oxycodone for half that time, and some really strong ibuprofen. They also gave me one of those anti-nausea patches on the back of my neck. I struggled with a bunch of nausea for the first day after getting out of the hospital but never threw up. I was pretty functional right away. I wouldn’t necessarily recommend this but within the first 48 hours out of the hospital I was walking a few blocks to the closest grocery store and carrying groceries back. Felt like shit but survivable. About 4 days post-op I took a train 4-5 hours north to see family on my own then was in a car for another 4ish hours back home a couple days later. Just took a shitload of oxycodone and ibuprofen and played video games and listened to music the whole way, totally survivable. So it really wasn’t all that bad.

About 3 weeks post-op I went back to school and work. At the time I was on a pretty walking-heavy campus with tons of hills. I applied for short term disability just in case I had trouble carrying my textbooks around or walking up hills or something but tbh I never needed to utilize it, it was fine. I was super tired but fully functional. So overall I’d say recovery was pretty easy. I had limited mobility for a couple of weeks, it hurt to raise my arms above my head, needed help reaching some things and showering was a bit tricky, but over time that went away.

I’d say without a doubt the worst parts of recovery were:

Not being able to shower for the first week. This absolutely fucking sucked lol. I was so greasy it’s not even funny. I would try to rinse my hair with Angel’s help over the tub and do like sponge baths basically but it was NOT the same. Definitely recommend dry shampoo (we didn’t think of it until after). 

Sleeping on my back. I am NOT naturally a back sleeper. I really struggled with this. Having a dick piercing now I’ve gotten better at it lol but at the time especially it was so incredibly difficult to sleep this way, I was already crazy uncomfortable from surgery and being greasy and tired and sore and then on top of that I could NOT get comfortable to fall asleep.

I had some weird emotional and hormonal responses to the surgery. My period returned in full force about two weeks after my surgery for the first and only time since it stopped on T. At that time I also experienced some pretty nasty post-op depression. I think it was a mixture of weird dysphoria (mostly a sort of existential frustration that I had to go through the procedure in the first place), hormonal imbalances (again, my period returning…), and just general emotional response to recovering from a surgery and frustration with the minutia of the recovery process. I just felt really, really low. Tired and tired of being tired. This passed over time, but it was not fun.

Pettier complaints: Nipple grafts suck to heal and look disgusting at first. Trust the process lol. Wearing the compression vest is kind of annoying. I was like, dude, I got this surgery so I don’t have to bind anymore! 😭 Anesthetic can (and did) cause constipation. I had to buy laxatives. None of this was unbearable but it definitely all added up and contributed to the post-op depression.

Stay hydrated, eat well, take probiotics, take vitamins and supplements, take vitamin C and zinc, a small amount of exercise/physical movement is good but don’t overdo it, get lots of rest, and listen to your surgeon’s advice. If you’re not sure, ask.

I think my biggest advice is to remember that our bodies are pretty primitive things—Injury is injury to them. You’re getting a surgery you wanted to better your life longterm, your body is purely focused on healing, and is responding to awareness of an injury. It’s hard to feel super excited about the surgery right away, you’ll be too deep in your body’s healing response to physical trauma. It’s exhausting at times and it can almost feel like your body is working against you. It’s NOT. I found undergoing top surgery (and transitioning in general) to be an amazing meditative process in aligning your brain to your body better, but that’s a process, a relationship you form through work the same as any other. You need to trust your body’s natural healing process.

Bodies are weird and healing is messy. I had weird inexplicable symptoms that I’d tell myself I’d contact my surgeon about if they persisted or worsened and they didn’t. I had UTI-like symptoms for a day that went away on their own. I had really uncomfortable weird restless leg syndrome for a night or two. One of my drains came detached from the tape holding it down and it had no negative effect. One of my nipples looked vaguely infected but my surgeon was unconcerned and it healed fine. None of this was serious, try not to worry if things seem a little odd, unless symptoms get progressively worse, show no signs of getting better, or are really, really obvious signs of infection/complication. Just listen to your body and take care of it. 

I felt comfortable going out shirtless after about… a year or so? It took about that much time for things to settle. For a few months it almost looked like I had excess skin sagging on the sides, this went away by the 12ish month mark. Nowadays I don’t do any body building but I try to do some push ups every day to keep my chest somewhat fit. 4 years in and sensation is still minimal, definitely doesn’t have the same sensitivity as the rest of my body, but it also continues to return every day! Literally to this day I notice new shooting nerve sensations growing deep in my chest now and again. A few months ago I had notable nipple sensation for the first time since the surgery. My scars are still fading, although my chest generally seems to pass for cis irl which is awesome.

I could go on and on about all the small details but I think I’ve talked your head off enough for now hahaha. I love my results and I’d do the whole process over again a thousand times if it meant having what I have now. Literally changed (and saved) my life.

[deiongill]

Today I am 8 days into quitting vaping after 4 years. To be honest, it was a lot easier than I expected. I’ve done my fair share of googles on what quitting vaping and nicotine all together is like, so I assumed that I would be in a constant state of panic for 2 weeks straight with some of the worst symptoms known to man. Was I being dramatic to think that? Yes. Was I crazy to think that and also be so down to white knuckle it and quit semi-cold turkey? Maybe. Now I’ve had a few days in the past week where the motion sickness, irritability and constant background headaches were a lot to handle, but I honestly made it through pretty smoothly.

It was a very simple and quiet decision that I made to quit entirely, and it was in 3 steps that I made it happen and got to the point where I’m typing this without the urge to pick it back up again after only 8 days. The first step was no longer buying new vapes, so I could only hit the near-empty ones I had lying around the house. Not a very glamorous thing to say out loud seeing that I had about 15 of them hiding in random places in my apartment and car, but nonetheless it helped to get the process started. The faded and worn out flavor, plus the disappointing lack of “smoke” exhaled from each hit felt like it was training my brain to no longer rely on vaping to give me the same sense of satisfaction that I once received from it. The experience was now a lackluster excuse for a bad habit. Did I continue to do it? Absolutely. I reluctantly used up all 15 of the near empty vapes in about 2 weeks, and by the end of it I was almost glad to be done with them.

Step 2 was a huge jump, but somehow it felt easy. Here’s what happened leading up to it in reality… I cheated the process, but not without good reason. I finished my last used vape on the way to the airport to fly out to Atlanta to see my family for 2 days during Christmas. When I landed and got picked up, I had already decided in my mind that I was going to buy one last vape for this trip, because I couldn’t bear to let the withdrawals kick in while I was with my family. That was just something I didn’t see going well. So I purchased myself a cheat day vape and went about my holiday before throwing it out as I left for the airport to head back to LA. Step 2 was now in effect. This was the rule of no longer having any vapes to myself, and only being able to take 1 hit of my best friend and roommate Crispin’s vape per day. Luckily I was in the studio for the majority of my time during this phase, so I would either come home around 9pm and hit it once after a full day, or, if I wasn’t in the studio, wait until about 3pm after I had already worked out or hiked before allowing myself to knock on his bedroom door and be met with his answer before I even asked the question.

Step 2 lasted for about a week and some change, and on January 5th, something miraculous happened in perfect timing. I was in an all-day session until 10-11 pm that night and returned home to take a nap before needing to drive Crispin to the airport early in the morning. He was already asleep and I didn’t want to wake him up with my nicotine junkie tendencies, so I refrained from knocking on his door. Somehow, without even noticing it, the clock had struck midnight and I had officially made it a full 24 hours without vaping at all. Not even a single hit. It didn’t occur to me until I was getting back up out of bed to leave for the airport, but when it did I was surprised and proud. I decided that there was no turning back from it, and I would go without my Elliot Smith-esque last hit moment. There was no fond farewell to a friend. I had officially quit vaping for good. It was time for step 3.

This past week has been strange when it comes to the specific experience of completely quitting. I remember moments of nausea, headaches, lack of focus, and compulsive eating, but never once did I feel the urge to make all the discomfort disappear by taking the easy way out. I stood on the word that I gave to myself and refused to budge. I gained a lot of respect for myself this week, respect that was earned by choosing my future over my present. I showed myself tough love, real care and kept a promise. I don’t know what version of me is going to be able to see that promise come full circle and be able to say “I’m so thankful I made that decision”, but I’m looking forward to being that version of myself, no matter how far away that is. I proved that I’m worth being looked out for, taken care of, and respected, even if only by myself. I showed myself that I matter by doing this, and I set an example for all the other parts of me that I want to work on and improve. If I can do this, what else can I do?

[indigo-a-creeping]

Hi Indigo, I got to see my results today. I think they look good for now but I’m interested to see how swelling changes them. I wasn’t super happy with the MA that helped me today. She was super nice and but super mechanical and definitely more of a get-in-and-get-out type. Which isn’t great when I have questions. I should have been more assertive. I ended up having to keep a drain in because my left side drained 20ml in the last 24 hours and 30ml the 24 hours before and they were concerned about the 30ml being on the line of their limit. So now I get to travel home with a drain, which isn’t their fault but it’s still annoying for me. But like, I only have one follow up appointment a week from today where I submit pictures, I don’t even talk directly to anyone. And I don’t know how long I’m expected to sleep elevated or how long I have to sleep only on my back or if I can drive or when I can lift my elbows higher than my shoulders. It’s just frustrating right now. And knowing that no one in my family gets it is tough.

I feel really disappointed right now and it’s not with the results. It’s with everything else.

I just want to thank you because you don’t even know me and yet you’ve been the biggest help out of anyone. So thank you, from the bottom of my heart, it’s meant more than I can say.

I'm sorry things have been rough. The MA I had was not super forthcoming with information either (I feel like no one really was), and I am also often not good at speaking up.

There was someone in the group text of people who had surgery in May who went to the GCC the day after me, and they also had to go home with one drain in. They said it was pretty easy to get out when the time came.

You will have more followup appointments in the future (at 6 weeks, 3 months, and 6 months, I want to say), just submitting pictures and a brief summary, though you're able to write as much as you need to. For me, they just said I was "right where I needed to be," and that was it. If you have concerns that aren't addressed or you just want extra support, you can always call them.

I slept elevated for another week after the post-op appointment, and then took away pillows as I felt comfortable. When you feel like you can sleep on your side, it's probably going to be okay (though I waited a long time because I didn't want fluid to build up unevenly). I tried gingerly lying on my side at maybe week 4-5? I didn't feel comfortable sleeping that way for another couple weeks.

You can drive as soon as the anesthesia and bigger narcotics are out of your system. I started driving just past 1 week. It was tough at first, mostly because the binder made it hard to turn my body enough (so not super safe to drive, but I did it anyway). The first week of driving I kept my hands low to turn the wheel with little movements, and week 5 I felt like I didn't have to protect my chest from the seatbelt.

I was reaching out almost as far as my arms could extend the day of surgery, but I know even at week 3 I physically couldn't raise my elbows above my shoulders. By week 6 I could lift my arms, and I had maybe 85% flexibility and strength back (that's when I went back to work).

You can find information online, but each surgeon has different guidelines and everyone heals differently. Especially at this point, you'll be pretty safe listening to your body.

I know how you feel being alone with this, and I'm glad I've been able to help! I hope this helps too!

[hongchenzhu]

This is part 4

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 3.5

Also pls read the chapters in order, cause there is a lot of information in chapter leading up to this one

Also same as other chapter, if you don't like the outfit I describe then change it I don't mind, same with height the only thing that can't be changed is the eye's and hair cause they are plot related.

Also swearing

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

(Timeline might not match with the Manga)

“My logic is very simple if you are not dead by the end of this training session. Then I will make you work to death.”

WTF, who are you

Yup, that's me. You're properly wondering how I ended up in this situation? Well…

24 hours prior

“Congratulations on passing the 3rd selection. But bad news, your soccer careers are in danger of disappearing forever like worthless trash, along with Blue Lock.”

Murmurs of disbelief started among the boys

“But good work, playing against the world all-stars was quite the experience, right?” Ego display on the screen

“A lot happened since the third selection, I plan to narrow you down to five players, but… the plan has changed. The main problem is the bigshots of Japanese soccer are trying to put kibosh on Blue Lock, so I decide to send them a challenge.”

A holographic appeared on the screen.

“This means the next selection, which is done in three weeks will define the outcome of Blue Lock’s future.” Ego pushed his glasses towards his face, the light reflecting off the glass giving him a sinister look. “If you win this game, you can steal the honour of representing Japan at the U-20 World Cup.”

A series of murmurs started again “What” “No way” “For real”

“Therefore the time has come, my lumps of talents. To bring a new era.”

Small time skip - after the groups have been chosen (Cause I’m lazy 👍)

“For the first few days, you’ll have matches between each other after that you will start training, for the next two weeks.” Ego’s on the screen again telling group A what the plan is for the next three weeks “Of course, there will still be matching between to see how much you have improved.”

Isagi raised his hand.”Ego-san” “Yes, Yoichi?” “Who are we training with?”

Ego’s sadistic smile appeared on his face again “you’ll know who your trainer is when the time comes.” Shivvers were shot down the spine of people in the room, including Rin and Shindou. Just then a female appeared behind Ego “Ego, there is no need to be that harsh on them.” An elegant woman wearing a large hat came into view, with the hat obscuring her face but her straight posture exposed who she is to Isagi. ‘!!! Y/n is going to our trainer??? . . . We’re fucked,’

Another magic time skip cause I can’t be bothered writing the different matches ✌️

Day 1 of training

Everyone in team 1 was chilling, more like waiting cause ego called them into the meet room. “Hello, my diamond in the rough, how was your match? Not bad… great. Today marks the start of your training camp. And who is your t-” the screen closed

“That dame bastard, so annoying.” A new voice appeared in the room,

“Ahh” “Who?” “Ahh,” “WTF”

A Tall, white-haired female who clearly wasn't here before stood in the middle of the room. “Hello” waving her hand “I am your trainer for the next 2 weeks”

Murmurs began to start “now, to officially start this training camp, start by running 50 laps around this room”

“What?” “Do what?”

“Start now, or no dinner.” this caused people to start running. ‘I knew that would work, no one would reject not having dinner.’

“Oi, old hang you do I have to run,” Shido shouted

Y/n turned around and look at Shido through the pitch-black glasses she wears. “Because Ryusei Shido, it’s for you to get stronger.” Shido could feel her gaze through her glasses “Now get running or you’ll run another 5- laps”

Out of fear, Shido began running again, this time faster as he could feel her gaze on him almost making two holes in the back of his head.

Isagi was out of breath by lap 34 Shido was the second to finish, after Rin, and Isagi finished at number 8 and everybody slowly after that.

“Great, now that everyone is done with the warmup, I should do a little introduction.” Y/n clapped her hands as the last few finish up “I am Gojo Y/n your new trainer until the U-20 Japan match, nice to meet you” Everyone looked at her “Now, I will spend two hours each day for the next two and push you as far as you can after all” A shiver was sent down everyone’s spin… again almost like there fucked “My logic is very simple if you are not dead by the end of this training session. Then I will make you work to death.” In the sweetest voice anyone could have, but saying the most brutal thing.

And this was how most people in group 1 would die after every training.

Time skip … again

In the main presentation room, all 45 participants were present. Ego was on the stage. “When a person focuses on something, they can get so absorbed in their work they don’t realise the passing of time.” Ego’s tone was very stable and calm “taking enjoyment in the process, their brain enters a state of excitement. To put it simply, that is the ‘flow’.”

The Flow is a state of extreme focus where you are immersed in what you are doing.

“Now that Ego is done with his presentation, let me introduce you to another phenomenon called ‘curses’” Y/n stood on the stage in a black long-sleeve kind of body-hugging long dress with a long black coat, black heels and her signature black glasses. (Again if you don’t like this outfit then you can change it)

“Curses, are a race of spiritual beings created from negativity. Now everyone in this room has curse energy, but only a selected few can weld it by will.” A cart of glasses rolled toward Y/n “here, take one and passed it on.”

After everyone got a pair of glasses Y/n started talking again “Put the glasses on before we continue.” A movement of kids putting their glasses on. “These glasses have been imbued with curse energy, therefor you should be able to see the orb that I am creating.” Y/n held her hand open and a red ball appeared in her palm. “This is a form of curse energy, normally you wouldn’t be able to see it but since you are wearing the glasses it allowed you to see it. And that's what the flow is like a sudden surge of curse energy that gives you a push in what you are doing. Isagi!”

“Hai”

“Is a perfect example, he momentarily entered the state of the flow which means he had a burst of curse energy in physical strength and most importantly, the firing of neurons which allowed him to have a full spital awareness of the court.”

Yukimiya put his hand up “Yes, you”

“Y/n - san, how did you know Isagi momentarily entered the flow?”

“Yukimiya, to those who could weld curse energy at will we also have the ability to see curses, in a matter of fact if you look at the end of the room” Y/n walked off the stage while the boy’s head turned to see the back of the room. “What is that!” “That thing!” “I… want to vomit”

“This gents is a curse and as a jujutsu sorcerer, it’s my job to excoriate it.”

‘That thing’ thought Isagi ‘is similar to the one I saw in the training room’

“But like skills, different sorcerers have different ways to excoriate a curse.” Y/n walked towards the curse at the end of the room. “First grade huh,” she whispered, with a click of her finger, the head of the curse turned into a splatter with purple goo covering the corner that was trapped in. Everyone else in the room looked at her, more like her back standing tall and proud it seems like this is her everyday job.

“Now you can keep the glasses, but if you don’t want to see this creature when you are going to bed I suggest only wearing them when you are analysing your opponents.” Her glasses slid down a bit, allowing her eye to be visible. Bright blue eyes, like the reflection of the sky staring back at the player, the brightest object in this dark corner that seems to peer into the souls of the living. Unnerving and unwavering of the eyes looking back. “Right now get out and start training for the round coming up.”

Time skip to one day before the match

“Isagi, good luck on your match tomorrow” “Y/n why are you telling me this now” “Isagi, I have a mission tomorrow so I won’t be able to tell you that, I’ll try getting to the match as fast as I can after finishing off my mission, ok”

Y/n raised her hand and touched Isagi’s head, ruffling his hair “Isagi I know you can lead this team to win, you will become the star of this show.” Her bright blue eyes look into Isagi’s eyes “Because Isagi, you are similar to us. Your eye has traces of curse energy more than the average human but less than curse users, if you can somehow manipulate it at will then this will help you in the near future.” Y/n then touched Isagi’s face, her eyes began to water making her already mesmerising eyes even more ethereal.

“Wait for me Isagi, and let me see you win this match.”

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

After this is offically start of the U-20 arc the arc might be split up into different parts to make my life easier.

[beardedmrbean]

Hey it me, zoomer Huey, I saw the post saying about the young gamers retro revival

But how retro because this book..

https://www.tumblr.com/gsirvitor/742534236498804736

Also yes people halo is going to be 23 this fall so it’s a retro game

Yes, don’t have to deal with horrific live service and micro transactions but the thing is….economic reasons

Like I been getting into kingdoms hearts and final fantasy….but I was a Xbox player so they are new ports in the ecosystem

And like I said, AC red will probably be a huge entry point for a lot of new fans. So it very likely they will be curious what the game Easter eggs are about so I will gladly help them get say get the Ezio Collection if the European Templars have dialogue mentioning they don’t want another Borgia fiasco since the game take places in the 1580’s-90’s and during this time many Templars went to the new world or other places to escape the “Dark Age” of the Templars order where it’s was about gaining power for selfish reasons rather further their causes

And about retro games, um…the same way a adult might want to watch old classic movies

Now I watched Fox’s miracle of 34th street a couple of years ago on Disney plus (actually I often use these streaming services to watch old shit like the muppet show) despite being at my depress state, I couldn’t help but smile at the Santa in it

It like for me, I found the Santa that inspired the ones your generation, my generation, and all those in between the Santa we had when we were kids. I’m glad the actor got the Oscar. And I’m more glad Hollywood graveyard help find his lost vase and people came to celebrate the actor new home. With him Unknowingly inspired the Christmas magic we love

Sorry using that as example

Also a lot of young gamers….were often too poor, too young, didn’t have enough resources when these old games came out. So we are interested in what these games that older gamers talk about even if we don’t have the nostalgia for it

Like Xbox Backwards Compatibility library….can someone please make a deal to bring the one transformers or marvel games back on it? Anyways, I’m 24 now, so there a lot of old 360 and og Xbox games I didn’t okay that I use bc for

And modern gaming, ugh feel like it intentionally designed for Twitch streamers and YouTuber gamers. Ugh halo infinite mp made just drop it all together

Oh gaming companies, a lot of modern gamers have JOBS so we might invest in a 1 or 2 live service games. Hell ac red might have a 3-4 live services era (ac Valhalla had 2 years of support) but I’m mostly invested in single player games

Well I’m autistic and I work 10 hour and 4 days a week work schedule. I am not interested dealing with try hards

Like I don’t understand this shock? Ac red is dead ass the only triple a gaming I’m probably going to be paying at launch at full price while the upcoming Star Wars game I’m probably going to get on sale

I feel like people are so focus on young people who refuse to consume pre 2012 media. There are those with a mentality that can stand old shit.

Hey it me, zoomer Huey, I saw the post saying about the young gamers retro revival But how retro because this book. gsirvitor/742534236498804736 Also yes people halo is going to be 23 this fall so it’s a retro game

I think the first post your talking about was one I put up, I go with most anything PS2 on down for consoles, some PS2 aren't really "retro" but the divide for me is mostly based on hotfixes and micro-transactions so like Sims2 is the right age but i shift round on the retro bit since you could buy skins and such still gonna be retro I think.

Online games you could play for free online are retro too, but everyone will define it in their own way too so no hard and fast rules for me.

Like I been getting into kingdoms hearts and final fantasy….but I was a Xbox player so they are new ports in the ecosystem And like I said, AC red will probably be a huge entry point for a lot of new fans. So it very likely they will be curious what the game Easter eggs are about......... And about retro games, um…the same way a adult might want to watch old classic movies

Classic and retro work together in tandem a lot, there is a difference but I don't want to tangent too far into that.

Now I watched Fox’s miracle of 34th street a couple of years ago on Disney plus (actually I often use these streaming services to watch old shit like the muppet show) despite being at my depress state, I couldn’t help but smile at the Santa in it

Watch some Mr Rogers, it's a soothing balm on depression, won't make it go away but at the end of a episode or two you'll feel loved, man you've never met in your life but you know he loved you, just the way you are.

Also a lot of young gamers….were often too poor, too young, didn’t have enough resources when these old games came out. So we are interested in what these games that older gamers talk about even if we don’t have the nostalgia for it

Nostalgia isn't required for retro, good games are good games.

Like Xbox Backwards Compatibility library….can someone please make a deal to bring the one transformers or marvel games back on it? Anyways, I’m 24 now, so there a lot of old 360 and og Xbox games I didn’t okay that I use bc for

If I'd had the money to get one of the first gen PS3's I'd have gotten one since they were built to still run PS1&2 games as well, once they took that away I had no desire to get the thing. Wii was great because you had the Wii shop for the older games and it also played GC games, Wii shop games weren't too pricey either.

And modern gaming, ugh feel like it intentionally designed for Twitch streamers and YouTuber gamers. Ugh halo infinite mp made just drop it all together

I've noticed that with some, they dial back the graphics and all that good stuff so they stream well, or at least leave the option of that. I figure as long as everyone is happy.

Oh gaming companies, a lot of modern gamers have JOBS so we might invest in a 1 or 2 live service games. Hell ac red might have a 3-4 live services era (ac Valhalla had 2 years of support) but I’m mostly invested in single player games

That's really all I do, even when battle net was going strong I still didn't sign up for D2 on there except rarely.

Like I don’t understand this shock? Ac red is dead ass the only triple a gaming I’m probably going to be paying at launch at full price while the upcoming Star Wars game I’m probably going to get on sale

Blizard had it right with World of Warcraft, at least at one point. The were selling the game disc for like $5 with a 2 week subscription make their money in the long game, not sure if anyone is doing that kind of thing anymore but they should be.

I feel like people are so focus on young people who refuse to consume pre 2012 media. There are those with a mentality that can stand old shit.

I love seeing people get into the games and stuff I enjoyed when I was younger, watching through the X-Files with a friend who's never seen it before and it's great seeing it through the eyes of someone who hasn't watched it.

Same with nerding out about games, as you've seen me do with FFVI here previously.

Most people that matter feel the same, so don't worry about any haters, they aren't worth your time or thought.

[darkx-the-dragon-kn1ght]

Pokémon Reborn Screenshot Let's Play: Chapter 12

Hello again, everyone! Happy late Pokémon Day, Gen VI is getting the justice it deserves after all these years and I for one could not be happier! Funny, since my own Pokémon fangame idea has a focus on Gen VI, and now we’re getting a Legends game based in Kalos- but I’m not complaining.

So, yeah- if you saw my last update, I did a goof yet again, and am having to split these screenshots and such into two chapters instead of one. I hoped I would do a better job gauging length after the first Team Meteor thing at Mosswater, but I guess there’s only so much I can discern going into this game blind. Believe me, this just gives me even more work to do, heck-

Though, speaking of work- this part in particular did still take a bit longer to come out than intended, despite its length. Not only did I have two exams to prepare for last week, but I also caught a stomach bug that crippled my ability to work on anything for like 24 hours so that definitely didn’t help matters. Then then this week, I caught yet another bug (just some kinda flu-like thing), which didn’t completely destroy me, but it still slowed me down- heck, I was planning to have this part out yesterday, and you can see how that worked out. But I survived, and I’m back again, and so…here’s Chapter 12!

Without further further delay- we get into the recap! Not that a ton happened last time, but I still feel like a reminder would be beneficial:

Xera runs around Reborn City to catch some Pokémon, specifically Watcher the Sentret (later Furret) and Vigil the Patrat (later Watchog). These two are traded for Meteo the Castform and LaPointe the Nosepass, respectively.

After doing some corporate espionage, Xera is rewarded with Roi the Glameow.

Nothing happens involving a Tsareena.

Xera confronts the strange Day Care couple, only to discover said “couple” was actually a pair of Team Meteor Grunts in disguise, who kidnapped the real Day Care couple so they could steal Trainers’ Pokémon. 

Xera engages the Grunts in battle, during which Glare evolves into Arbok. Xer and her team win, but the Grunts won’t tell her where the Day Care couple are or how to free them.

Xera finds the keys to some warehouses in Coral Ward; she unlocks one of them and finds the Day Care couple, allowing them to return home and restore their business’ reputation.

In a different warehouse, Xera finds and catches Leap the Spoink.

Xera visits the Sweet Kiss candy store to try their special challenge; upon winning the challenge, Xera is awarded Sucre the Swirlix.

Xera goes down into the Underground Railnet in an attempt to explore it (key word being attempt), during which she catches a soon-to-be-renamed Noibat.

The Egg Xera found in Obsidia Slums finally hatches, into a Ducklett that she names Lake.

Xera heads up to Onyx Ward for the first time; while wandering the streets, she encounters the man from Obsidia Ward and his Lillipup. Since the man cannot properly care for Lillipup anymore, he gives it to Xera; the Lillipup is named Radley.

Xera encounters a woman concerned about the issues with the Day Care couple in Obsidia Ward. Upon learning about what happened, the woman is so grateful for Xera’s intervention that she gives her another Egg, which has yet to hatch.

Xera finds herself in front of the Onyx Trainers’ School- one of the best, arguably the best Trainers’ school in the Reborn region, and where Xera is set to challenge Florinia.

And that’s the goal, here. We’ll sort out any other housekeeping things that weren’t finished last time, do some teambuilding, and then…we’ll see. We will certainly see what happens. Let’s go!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12