#it will make the experience of checking tumblr less difficult and painful

[savebylou]

Adding tags about Liam.

Is it possible that any content you reblog or post that talks about the day that Liam passed away can you use a tag so I can block it? I really keep seeing posts talking about what happened that day and I really don't want to know details or think about that day ever and I will be very thankful that even if you don't use tags you do this exception. I know a lot of people don't use tags but please do this for me and anyone that don't want to see that type of content please. I get that is something that people want to talk about and I respect it but I want to filter those tags for my mental health.

And if you do use a tag let me know which one it is so I can block it please. Thank you ❤️

[fnaf-is-awesome201]

Panic at the Pizzaplex!

After being freed from Vanny, Vanessa would rather try to avoid reminders of the whole experience. However, a chance encounter late one night at the Pizzaplex will make that difficult.

Trying something new here. This story is based on “Idea 10″ from @halogenrobotics ‘s list of ideas.

Anyways, here it is. It’s a bit long for a Tumblr post, so most of it is under the read more.

Edit: Made a slight change to the first paragraph.

Vanessa sighed as the doors to the Pizzaplex opened in front of her. It had only been a couple days since the events that had transpired there. All the animatronics were still being repaired in the maintenance room, which somehow made the empty building feel even emptier. She wasn’t looking forward to going back to a place that held such painful memories. She anxiously tugged at the sleeve of her uniform, the feeling of the heavy fabric against her skin becoming more and more uncomfortable with each passing moment. She paused just in front of the main doors, taking a deep breath. Just get in, get it over with, get out. Get in, get it over with, get out... She quickly straightened her posture and smoothed the wrinkles on her sleeve, then walked through the beckoning doors.

As soon as she entered the building, her senses were being assaulted by the atmosphere of the Pizzaplex. There were advertisements plastered on all the bright screens. Everything was colored in brilliant neon as far as the eye could see. The scent of new plastics and the lingering smell of dozens of different kinds of snack foods formed an odd and familiar amalgamation that filled the room. Music from half a dozen different stores poured into the main lobby, clashing with the music already playing over the main speakers and forming a cacophony of mismatched sounds and rhythms. 

Vanessa closed her eyes and tried to focus on her breathing. Get it over with, get out. Get it over with, get out. She heard slow footsteps approaching behind her. She opened her eyes and turned back to look at Gregory, his face blank as he glanced around the lobby. He glanced at his Fazwatch and adjusted his backpack before looking up at Vanessa. After a moment or two, Vanessa shook her head and smiled at Gregory. 

“Right,” she turned towards him, pulling a spare security card and some spare passes out of her pocket, “I guess I’ll just... let you go off and do your own thing then...” She handed him the card and passes, with just enough clearance to let him into places like one of the various arcades scattered about the building and some of the other attractions. She knew he could probably find a way into those places anyways, but it would be safer, and would end with less property damage, if she just gave him the clearance needed to enter. 

“Yeah, I guess so...” They stared at each other for a few moments as the building began to still, with most of the shops now starting to close down for the night. After a few more awkward moments, Vanessa clicked her tongue and turned away from Gregory, starting to venture deeper into the Pizzaplex. 

“Well, I should probably check in and get to work,” She turned to glance back at Gregory. “If you need anything, let me know and... uh... have fun.” She paused for a moment. “And please, try to stay out of trouble...” Gregory huffed and rolled his eyes at her before meandering further into the Pizzaplex. After he left, Vanessa turned back towards the main office and went over to check in. 

The first half of Vanessa’s shift was fairly boring. She checked the stores in the lobby after they had closed, making sure everything was locked and accounted for and making sure no one was hiding in the back storerooms, then moved on to the shops and party rooms at the daycare and the theater, and finally proceeded on to the main atrium.

The atrium was bright and colorful, plastered floor to ceiling with ads and pictures of the animatronics, the star attractions of the Pizzaplex. Despite the vibrant atmosphere, the overwhelmingly familiar scenery put Vanessa on edge as she wandered the first floor. She took a deep breath. Get it over with, get out… She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“I can’t wait to get my old job back,” she muttered to herself. She slowly continued through the first floor of the atrium, occasionally bumping into a staffbot or two along the way. Although most of the major attractions had been shut down for the night, the area was still filled with an interesting mix of music and sound effects pouring into open space around her.

Vanessa quickly turned her head as she heard one of the doors behind her open, and out of the corner of her eye she saw something quietly dart into one of the side halls connecting the various attractions. She held her breath for a moment, contemplating what to do next. That wasn’t a staffbot… She took a step back, realizing that the only thing that it could have been was a person. She felt her heartbeat start pounding faster in her chest as she stared at the slowly closing door. Would she have to deal with a dangerous intruder? Would she have to follow this stranger into the dark hallways that wound like a maze through the entire Pizzaplex? Would she really have to do this all alone?

She tightly shut her eyes before taking a few deep breaths, trying to slow down her heartbeat. Get it over with… get out… She opened her eyes and hesitantly walked over to the door, pausing for a moment with her hand hovering over the door handle. If there is someone in here, might as well try and figure out what they’re doing here… I guess… She huffed anxiously before pulling open the door and quickly walking through.

The halls smelled musty and stagnant, the walls mostly dismal gray concrete. A few sections were plastered with colorful posters, all of them with the smiling faces of the animatronics, most captioned with some half-baked slogan or warning about workplace safety. She wandered through the halls, trying her best to keep her footsteps quiet, though she could hardly hear them over the sound of her heartbeat thumping in her ears. Get it over with… get it over with… She pulled at the hem of her sleeve anxiously, her breathing slow and deliberate as she tried to stay calm. She slowly turned the corner, and stopped dead in her tracks.

A little girl was standing at the other end of the hall, facing away from her. Her light pink sweater stood out in stark contrast to the dark gray walls. Her blonde pigtails bounced as she skipped over to one of the other posters on the wall, admiring all the bright colors and giggling at the characters on the posters. Behind her, she dragged a worn-looking Chica plush, covered in dust from the hallway floors. She continued to wander from poster to poster, completely unaware of Vanessa’s presence.

Vanessa stared wide-eyed at the child, her heartbeat pounding louder and louder in her ears as her surroundings narrowed, her focus fixed. She could feel a tightness in her chest as she slowly blinked, her heartbeat going faster and faster with each second. She blinked again, and when she opened her eyes, the world was tinted red. No… She looked down at herself, and immediately felt her entire body tense up. She was wearing a patchwork costume, the hand stitching and the pattern unmistakable. No no no no… She raised a shaking gloved hand up to her face, struggling to breathe. No… this… this isn’t possible… She felt her breathing getting heavier as she turned her hand over and over again. I-I got rid of it… I-I BURNED it… this isn’t possible! She brought her other hand into her view and felt her heart skip a beat when she saw the glinting metal of the blade she held in her hand.

Her focus snapped back in front of her when she heard muffled sobs in the shadows. The room was different from the hallway she had just been in. It was dark and smelled of iron and old, rotting cardboard. There were shelves on either side of her filled with boxes, so much so that the shelves sagged under their weight. And, backed into the corner of the room was the little girl in the pink sweater, her eyes red and tears streaming down her face. Vanessa’s heart broke when she looked at the little girl. She was clutching her arm, blood seeping between her fingers, and her Chica plush was on the ground in front of her, spattered with blood and slashed open, spilling its stuffing onto the floor.

Vanessa attempted to back away and drop the knife, trying to salvage the situation or at least avoid causing more harm, but nothing happened. She struggled and fought as much as she could, but her body didn't respond. Instead, against her will, she painfully took a step forward. No no no stop! A sickening, familiar cackle echoed in the room around her. She tried to fight against herself as she took another step forward, each movement agonizing as Vanny forced her to advance. Stop! She took another step, her head forcibly tilting to the side as she stared into the terrified child’s eyes. Stop! Please, stop! Vanny’s laughter filled the room, much louder than humanly possible as the echo was distorted in the hollow bars on the shelves, creating a dull ringing as the metal shook.

“Let’s have some fun!” She lunged forward and grabbed the child by the arm, pulling her closer as she raised the knife in her other hand. STOP! Every muscle in her body ached and burned as she tried in vain to fight back. STOP! PLEASE STOP! Vanessa shut her eyes so tight that it hurt, the little girl’s screams and Vanny’s maniacal laughter ringing in her ears, until both abruptly ended with a loud thud.

“Ouch!” Vanessa opened her eyes, her ears still ringing. She was back in the hallway, still frozen in place. The little girl had tripped on her untied shoelaces and had fallen onto the ground. She got back up, giggled, and trotted off down the hall away from Vanessa, oblivious to Vanessa standing at the other end of the hall.

Vanessa stood, paralyzed and unable to move. Get out… She struggled to breathe, her heart beating so strong she felt like it could break through her ribs at any moment. Get out… She began to tremble, her hands cold and clammy. Get out. The sounds and music from beyond the hallways faded into static and were drowned out by the loud thumping echoing through her chest and pounding in her ears. Get out! She took a step back. GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!

She turned on her heel and sprinted towards the door back to the main atrium. As soon as she burst through the door, the sights and sounds became overpowering, disorienting her. Her eyes darted around, looking for a way out, looking for a way to get away. The bright lights and vibrant neons blurred her surroundings. She couldn’t tell where she was anymore. Seeing no other option, she picked a direction and ran. Everything began to blur together as she ran aimlessly, hoping to run into something she could recognize. Her stomach was tying itself in knots, and she felt a tightness in her chest as her breathing got faster and faster. All she could hear was her thundering heartbeat and the sound of her footsteps.

Suddenly, she slipped on a freshly mopped section of the floor. She gasped as her feet disappeared from beneath her, sending her crashing to the cold tiled ground. The shock was just enough to bring her surroundings slightly back into focus. As she quickly got back to her feet, she saw a familiar sight. In the hallway in front of her, there was a door to one of the security offices.

She stumbled through the door, slamming and locking it behind her. She stared at the door for a moment, slowly backing into the corner. She slid down the wall and curled up into a ball on the floor, her knees held tightly against her chest as tears streamed down her face, her crying muffled by her hands as she curled in on herself.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she murmured to herself. She stared wide-eyed at the blank space in front of her, her breath shaky as she shivered and trembled. She felt her throat tense as she tried to hold back tears and stay quiet, but after a moment she completely broke down and sobbed loudly, the sound muffled as she held her face in her hands.

After her crying quieted to little more than a whimper, she rubbed her shoulders and picked at the fabric of her uniform, her eyes closed as she tried to calm her breathing. She felt very sore, her muscles still tense. She sighed and wiped her tears on her sleeve, the damp spots showing up clearly on the white fabric.

Her eyes snapped open when she heard a knock on the door. She glanced at her fazwatch. It was nearly the end of her shift already. She cleared her throat and took a deep breath, trying her best to hide the fact that she had been crying before she responded.

“Yes?” Her voice was still very shaky and strained, her response sounding very forced.

“Uh… Vanessa? Are you… okay?” Gregory paused for a moment, giving her some time to respond.

“I’m fine,” Vanessa croaked, holding back more tears. She heard Gregory shifting around on the other side of the door for a moment. Suddenly, she heard the card scanner ding on the other side of the door, and quickly tried to compose herself. She straightened her posture and wiped the remaining tears from her eyes as Gregory walked into the room, a look of concern and confusion in his eyes.

“I think you accidentally called me with your fazwatch…” Gregory held up the watch on his wrist, making Vanessa freeze for a second. “So… what’re you doing in here? And… why are you crying?” Vanessa took a deep breath, picking at the hem of her sleeve.

“I… It’s… There’s… there’s a… a-” She tried to continue, to explain, but the words got stuck in her throat. She could feel more tears flowing down her face. She couldn’t fight it anymore, and she covered her face before bursting into tears.

Gregory took a step back, unsure of what to do. After a moment, they heard a faint noise. Then, the room fell silent. Gregory looked up. The monitors in the office were tuned in to some of the security cameras from around the pizzaplex. One of the monitors displayed footage of the back hallways, and he could see a little girl in a pink sweater sitting on the floor, playing with a Chica plush. The sound of her giggling could be heard coming from the screen.

“A… kid?” He glanced over at Vanessa. She was staring at the floor, picking at her sleeves, avoiding looking at the monitors. “You’re scared of a kid? Why?” He glanced back at the monitor. “I don’t understand… What’s so scary about a little kid?” Vanessa shut her eyes, thoughts and memories running wild in her head.

“I…” She hugged her knees close to her chest, trying to force the words out. “I… I can’t be responsible for another one…” She buried her face in her arms. “I can’t… I-I don’t want to hurt another kid…” Her voice lowered to almost a whisper. “I can’t… I can’t… I can’t,” She repeated over and over again.

“What? Why would-” Gregory paused, his eyes wide when the realization hit. “...Oh…” He looked over at Vanessa. She continued to cry quietly in the corner, hugging herself and seemingly trying to take up as little space as possible. Gregory cautiously walked over to her, before sitting down on the floor beside her.

After a long moment of silence, Vanessa could hear Gregory rummaging around in the backpack she had packed with snacks and stuff for him. He hesitantly patted her shoulder, and she slowly glanced towards him, her eyes red from crying.

“Here,” he held out a bottle of water. “Trust me, it helps.” She took the bottle of water, and Gregory scooted over on the floor to give her some space as she calmed down. Gregory looked through his bag again while Vanessa took a drink of water. He held out a pack of fruit snacks, offering them to Vanessa. She shook her head, taking another sip of water after wiping the tears from her eyes with the edge of her sleeve. Gregory shrugged and put the snacks back in his bag. They sat in silence for a few moments, giving Vanessa some time to catch her breath.

“Look,” Gregory turned to Vanessa, “I know this is scary.” Vanessa glanced at him after a moment or two. “But we do have to do something about this.” Vanessa took a deep, shaky breath.

“I can’t…” She held her head in her hands. Gregory thought for a moment, wrinkling his nose up and tilting his head, creating an odd expression as he tried to think of a way to help. Then, he looked over at Vanessa and gave her a slight smile.

“What if I go with you? Would that help?” Vanessa looked over at Gregory. Why was he so calm about this? Shouldn’t he be afraid of her? What if she tried to hurt him? A million questions ran through her mind. She didn’t want to go out there alone, but she was worried about having Gregory come with her.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea…” Gregory looked over at Vanessa.

“If you’re worried you’ll hurt me or something, I can tell you that I know you won’t. Besides, even if something does go wrong, I think I can handle it.” He stood up and threw his backpack over his shoulder. “I made it through 6 hours here being chased around by Her and a bunch of crazy robots! This is nothing compared to that.” Vanessa stayed tucked into the corner, still worried and not entirely convinced.

“But what if She comes back?” Gregory paused. Vanessa ran a hand through her hair as she looked up at the ceiling. “I can’t stop her…”

“I don’t think she will come back.” Gregory readjusts his backpack as he heads towards the door. “Even if she does, I think I could handle it.” He opens the door and turns back towards Vanessa. “So, ready to go take care of this?” She stares at him for a moment, then she sighs and picks herself up off the floor.

“Okay… let’s get this over with…” She walked through the door, Gregory following close behind her.

The two of them made their way back to the main section of the atrium, stopping on the second floor balcony to look around and see if they could find the little girl.

“Hm… hold on, let me check something…” Gregory looked down at his fazwatch and pushed a couple buttons on the screen, eventually ending up on the screen where he could view the security cameras. “Oh, sweet, I can still use the cameras from here!” After a few minutes of flipping through the different cameras, he pointed at the screen and looked up at Vanessa. “Looks like she’s still in the back hallways. Come on, let’s go!” They headed down the escalator towards the main floor, Gregory leading the way. Once they reached the main floor, Gregory ran towards the door to the hallways.

Vanessa stood frozen at the base of the escalator. She could feel her heart starting to beat faster once again. She felt paralyzed, all the noise starting to become overwhelming once again. Get out. Get out. Get out. Get-

“Vanessa?” Vanessa shook her head and blinked a few times. She looked down at Gregory, now walking back towards her. “Are you okay?” She tried to focus on her surroundings and tried to calm herself down, but it wasn’t working.

“This may sound… a bit strange… but…” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, embarrassed. “Could you… hold my hand? Please?” She looked over at Gregory, even more embarrassed after seeing his shocked expression.

“Uh… yeah, sure.” He walked over and held Vanessa’s hand, leading her towards the door.

“Thank you…” He glanced at her and shrugged, a slight smile on his face.

“I really don’t mind. If it helps, it helps.” Gregory opened the door, the familiar and unwelcoming scene of gray concrete walls and still air stretching out before them. The bright lights and overpowering music faded away as they walked slowly into the darkness.

It was very dark, seemingly even darker than it had been earlier when Vanessa found the girl. After a moment of blindly wandering, Gregory took a flashlight out of his bag. It was dim and needed to be recharged, but it would have to do. He navigated them through the maze of identical corridors, stopping only for a moment when there was a branch-off in the hallway before continuing.

After a few minutes, they could hear the little girl giggling nearby. Vanessa took a few deep breaths as they got closer, trying to keep herself calm. They turned a corner, and wandering down the middle of the hallway, they saw the little girl. She turned to look at Gregory and Vanessa, smiling and waving at them.

“Hi!” She looked back at the posters on the wall, lifting up the Chica plush to look at them as well. Vanessa took a deep breath, then she smiled softly as the girl faced her once again.

“Hello there, what’s your name?” The little girl smiled and wandered to the posters on the wall once again.

“Alice.” She held her Chica plush up to one of the posters before turning back towards Vanessa, holding the plush up towards her and waving its hand. “And this is Chica!” Vanessa waved at the Chica plush.

“Hello, Chica!” The little girl giggled and hugged the plush close to her, messing with the bow on top of its head. “Well, Alice, my name is Vanessa, and this is Gregory.” She waved a hand towards Gregory. “So, Alice…” She knelt down to Alice’s eye level. “It’s awfully late for you to be here. Are you here with someone?”

“My uncle brought me here.” She sat down by Vanessa, still fiddling with the bow on the Chica plush. “We were playing hide and seek! I waited for a long time, but waiting is boring, so I stopped hiding.”

“I see…” Vanessa stayed silent for a moment, trying to think of a way to handle this situation. “Alice, do you happen to know your mom or dad’s phone number?” Alice looked up at Vanessa, a proud smile on her face.

“Yeah! Mommy told me I had to remember it!” Vanessa sighed, relieved that there was an easy solution.

“That’s great!” Vanessa stood up, brushing the dust off of her pant legs. “How about we go wait in the main office in the lobby while I call your mom? I can get you some crayons or something if you want!”  Alice jumped up and down in excitement, then followed beside Vanessa and Gregory as they walked back towards the main atrium.

After they had all made it to the main lobby, Vanessa set out some paper and some crayons for Alice to doodle on while she called her parents. Gregory shared some of his snacks and decided to draw with Alice, chatting away about their favorite animatronics. Vanessa stepped out of the room to get some quiet while she made the call. She put in the number, and after a second, she could hear someone on the other end.

“Hello?” A woman answered, her voice calm and quiet.

“Hello. My name is Vanessa, I’m the night guard here at Freddy Fazbear’s Mega Pizzaplex.” Nothing but silence came from the phone. “I was given this number by your daughter, Alice.”

“Alice?” She paused for a moment, her calm demeanor fading. “What’s going on?”

“Well, it seems that she was left behind before closing time.” There was a brief pause before she heard a sharp gasp from the phone.

“WHAT?!” Vanessa nearly dropped the phone as she pulled it away from her ear, the mother’s voice so loud that it hurt. She quickly responded, the woman on the other end now anxiously stumbling on her words.

“Don’t worry, she’s fine, she’s waiting in the front office. Would you or someone else be able to come pick her up?” After a moment, she heard the woman take a deep breath.

“I’m on my way.” Her tone was harsh, her anger seeping into every word. After she hung up the phone, Vanessa poked her head back into the office.

“Okay, Alice, your mom is on her way to pick you up, okay?” Alice nodded and hummed in acknowledgement, not looking up from her drawings. Vanessa closed the door and continued to wait in the lobby, occasionally looking through the window into the office to check on the kids. After the security doors opened, she looked through the glass doors and saw a woman running towards the Pizzaplex. She burst through the doors, out of breath and very clearly distressed. She walked up to Vanessa after a brief pause to try and catch her breath.

“Vanessa?” Vanessa nodded.

“Yes, that’s me. You’re here to pick up Alice?” The woman let out a deep sigh, brushing her hair out of her face.

“Yes, I am. Thank you so much for the call.” Vanessa smiled and led her to the door to the main office. As soon as the door opened, Alice jumped up and ran over to hug her mother.

“Hi, mommy!” Her mother knelt down and scooped her up into a tight hug.

“Hello, sweetheart!” She let go of Alice and looked her over, letting out a sigh of relief when she saw she was okay. “I’m so sorry I didn’t pick you up sooner!” Alice giggled.

“It’s okay, mommy. Vanessa let me draw with crayons!” Her mother smiled and picked her up, hugging her again.

“Well, at least you had fun.” She turned back to Vanessa. “I’m so sorry about this. Her uncle can be… forgetful sometimes. Thanks again for the call.” She walked back towards the front doors, Alice sleepily rubbing her eyes and waving to Vanessa and Gregory as her mother carried her. “I swear I’m going to kill that airheaded idiot,” she muttered quietly to herself as she walked through the doors.

Vanessa stood in the lobby, staring at the doors after they left. She sighed, relieved that everything turned out okay. Everything turned out okay… She smiled as she watched the sun rising, the light sending colorful reflections onto the walls around her. Everything is okay. She’s okay. She closed her eyes, letting herself enjoy the warmth that was now enveloping the empty Pizzaplex. I’m okay…

“Vanessa? Is everything okay?” She looked over her shoulder to see Gregory walking towards her, packing what was left of his snacks back into his bag.

“Yeah… everything’s okay.” She smiled, all the worry and anxiety melting away. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

As they approached the doors, Vanessa paused for a moment and smiled. A happy melody played over the lobby speakers, and the sun continued to shine brighter and brighter through the open doors, bathing the entire space in a warm glow. For the first time in a long time, Vanessa was hopeful that things would get better.

[consensualpredator3rd]

This small blonde found me through an old reddit ad. After chatting for a while and getting comfortable she decided to meet up and get thrashed around. A little different from my usual meets because she told me she doesn’t like much pain and would like to keep it to a minimum. Something I can accommodate but more difficult to not have pain or the threat of it as a motivator and mood setter. Also this girl could make the Olympics for gymnastics with how much she twists and flips to jump off my cock. But I’ve got big hands for squirmy little girls.

Here’s the event in her own words:

“I was on Reddit looking through r/CNC_Connect looking for someone close by to me that I could potentially meet up with. There weren't many people posting in my area, and for the most part, the ones that were left much to be desired. I had been scrolling for quite a while before coming across an ad from over a year ago by u/Consensualpredator that caught my attention. With a brief look through his profile, I learned that A), for the most part he didn't really have any recent posts, and B), he was very sadistic. This worried me a little bit because, while I was into CNC, I did not consider myself a masochist. I eventually decided to send him a tentative message, part of me not sure I would get a response and part of me nervous that I would. In less than two hours, I received a message back from him.

From then until the day we met would be only five weeks. In that time we had several in depth conversations about my limits and concerns, during all of which he was very respectful and made sure I knew that while he did enjoy being sadistic, the most important part was that I would be giving myself up to him. That I would surrender all control, and be helpless in his arms. It was also during this time that he showed me his Tumblr page. I had never used Tumblr before, and had no idea that he had such a huge following. Seeing his page gave me more confidence in my safety and a better idea of who I was dealing with. Reading through his posts was what made me decide I wanted to have my first anal experience with him.

The day of, I somehow wasn't nervous until I started walking towards his car and getting in. I would finally get to meet him after five weeks. In our small talk, I revealed I hadn't eaten much that day, so he took me to get some food that I would finish at the hotel. It wasn't that far of a drive, and we got there around 8. While I ate, he checked for bedbugs and made sure all the faucets worked. Eventually I finished my food.

"Alright, lose the jewelry," he said. Something had changed in his voice compared to our earlier small talk. I complied with slightly shaky hands, knowing what was to come. He had me get on my knees in front of him and told me to open my mouth. When I didn't, he slapped my face and repeated the instruction with more venom in his voice. This time I listened, and he pulled my face all the way down on his cock. I'd never had something so big in my mouth before, and could feel it deep in my throat. He held me against him like that with tears streaming down my face, then finally allowed me to push off of him and fall to the floor, stunned. He stood over me for a moment as I looked up at him before pulling me to my feet and stripping me naked.

That was the start of a long night during which he would fuck me raw until 3 or 4 in the morning. The worst was when he fucked me in my ass. He was very gracious in using lots of lube, but I still could barely handle it, even screaming a little bit even though I was trying to be quiet given our location. He ended up having to restrain me with my ass up over the back of an armchair to keep me from clawing away from him. Eventually, in that position, he was able to fit his whole cock in my ass and start fucking me as I begged him to stop. Getting it in had been the hardest part for me, and though it was still painful, the fucking was much easier to handle. He even praised me for taking him so well.

Eventually we did sleep, and then woke up at around 9 or so in the morning. He fucked me one more time before we started getting ready to vacate the hotel room. He peed on me in the shower. I had assumed that afterwards he would drop me off back where he'd found me straightaway, but we ended up spending quite a bit of the day together. Throughout everything, he was very respectful and checked in frequently to make sure I was okay. I didn't even end up needing to safeword at all during our time together (which I was worried I might have had to do with the anal). I definitely had a positive experience with this man.”

A new toy to suffer for me

[storytellerofuntoldlegends]

an icarus and his sun: chapter 9

A/N: oh look another scott pov :) where nothing will go wrong :)

Warnings: violence, mild description of seizure-like symptoms, falling, injury, blood mention, near death experiences, self-blame, corruption, passing out

AO3 Link - Tumblr Masterpost

-

Scott lost track of time as he flew around aimlessly. Eventually, he decided that he couldn’t avoid his responsibilities or the other empires any longer, and flew back home. Night hadn’t fallen yet, but the sun was slowly sinking in the sky as he arrived back in Rivendell. Usually Scott loved to watch the sun get lower and lower in the sky and cast his empire in gold- but the ache in his heart paired with the sight that greeted him in Rivendell made the view far less enjoyable. Pillagers, witches, and ravagers had infested his empire, terrifying his villagers, infiltrating his enchanting tower, and trampling his fields. Not only that, but Scott could spot pressure plates and tripwires that he most certainly had not put up.

“Nice parting gift from Fwhip and Sausage,” Scott muttered as he drew his bow. He started by picking off the pillagers in the village. From a perch on the roof, he was able to take most of them out. The evoker that was there gave Scott some trouble with the vexes he sent towards him, forcing Scott to switch to his sword and cut them down. After that, dealing with the evoker was easy enough, seeing as his fang attacks couldn’t reach Scott on the roof. Then came disarming the traps in the village by carefully removing pressure plates and trip wires, then removing the TNT that they were supposed to rig. Fwhip being angry at him was one thing, but Scott’s blood boiled at the nerve of Fwhip to try and hurt his villagers. Next he made sure that any injured villagers got the treatment they needed, and Scott made a mental note to fortify the walls of the village.

Next was the ravagers in his fields. There wasn’t really anywhere for Scott to perch so he could shoot at the ravagers, minus the steep cliffsides that surrounded the field. But trying to defeat the ravagers head-on wasn’t the best plan either. At least Scott couldn’t see any potential traps in the fields. He just had to be sure his aim was good- which it was, in his humble opinion. And keep his balance on a rocky cliffside as well. No problem… right? The first shot he fired went wide, completely missing the ravager he was intending to hit. With a frustrated mutter under his breath, Scott readied his bow again, taking aim. This time, it was a hit, right in the gap of the ravager’s tough skin at its neck. A few more precise shots from his bow took care of the rest of the herd in no time at all. Replanting the crops they had destroyed, however, would take a bit longer.

With the ravagers taken care of, that left maybe the most difficult problem: the witches. They were all scattered around the mountain his enchanting tower was on, and they were a bit cleverer than the pillagers and ravagers were. They were hiding in the foliage around the tower, as well as the nether plants that were leaking out from the portal- and Scott could have sworn there was more of the strange red substance growing on the mountain than the last time he had seen it. But he couldn’t deal with that now- he had witches to deal with. He picked off a couple that were outside his tower as he circled around it- and then noticed that some of them were actually inside, looking far too intrigued by the crystal that powered his enchanting table.

“Oh no you don’t,” Scott huffed, quickly scanning for any more traps near the enchanting tower before flying in to deal with the witches. He caught one by surprise and sliced right through her, the witch crumbling to ash instantly. Three more remained inside the tower, and each one of them hurled potions at Scott once they noticed their fallen companion. He managed to evade the first two- poison, if he remembered his potion particles correctly, but the harming potion the last witch threw hit him right in the chest. His muscles seized and a pained shout made its way past gritted teeth, but Scott managed to stay upright. One witch lunged at him, and he barely managed to swing his sword at her, only managing to cut her arm. But even that didn't do much good- she had a healing potion at the ready. The other two witches were getting ready to throw more potions at Scott- and with how he was still reeling from the first round of potions, he highly doubted he could deal with more in this state. The witches were closing in on him, and he had no choice but to scramble back out of the tower. However they were all focused on him now, and no longer had any interest in the crystal. The way Scott was feeling, between the harming potion still causing his body to seize with pain every so often and the residual heartbroken and lonely mood he was still shaking off, they could have just kept it for all he cared.

Scott shook himself slightly. What on earth was he thinking? Yes, he was hurting both physically and emotionally- but Rivendell was his empire, his home. He wasn’t going to let Fwhip and Sausage’s horde of witches tarnish it, no matter how desolate he felt. He tightened his grip on his sword and despite the aching muscles, spread his wings as far as he could, glaring the witches down. It had the desired effect, the witches shrinking back a bit in fear. One witch was foolish enough to try and attack, and Scott was able to cut her down this time around. With a sudden burst of determination after defeating the one witch, Scott was able to take down the two remaining witches from the tower. But there were still witches below him- ones who had noticed the scuffle outside the tower and were beginning to climb up the mountain to him.

Switching to his bow, Scott took to the skies to try and pick off the witches as they tried to come up to him. But the harming potion’s effects were still lingering, and another tremor of pain took hold of Scott while he was in the air. His wings seized, and suddenly Scott was plummeting. He tried to extend his wings out and glide down, but he couldn’t quite get his limbs to respond in time. He crashed at the nether portal cave entrance, crying out as something cut his arm as he fell. He weakly pushed himself up from the crumpled heap he had become, dimly registering the witches inching closer as he gently stretched his wings, checking to make sure they hadn’t broken in the fall. Fortunately, his wings seemed to be responding normally now, and Scott pushed himself up to stand on slightly wobbly feet. He couldn’t give up now, not when there were five- no six- maybe it was five?- he couldn’t quite tell, his vision was blurring something awful- witches still approaching him. Frankly, Scott wasn’t quite sure how he was going to get out of this one. Maybe he deserved it, for what he did to Jimmy, Katherine, and by extension the entire House Blossom Alliance.

Scott looked to the mountains where his village and home were, wanting to see its beauty one last time- and happened to focus his gaze on the statue of Aeor. All at once, Scott didn’t feel quite so weary. He still ached, and his arm was stinging from the cut, but he got a sudden burst of energy as he looked upon the statue. The deer god had been relatively silent for as long as Scott could remember… was this sudden energy a gift from Aeor? Regardless of where the energy came from, Scott wasn’t going to let this chance go to waste. He drew his bow and shot down two of the witches in quick succession, clearly surprising the remaining three. They scrambled to throw potions at him, but he took to the skies again before they could land at his feet, and shot down the remaining three witches.

The burst of energy Scott had gotten was sapped as soon as the last witch crumbled into dust. He was able to glide over to the door to his home, and nearly fell flat on his face after he pushed the door open. But he somehow managed to stay upright, and stumbled over to his chests. It didn’t take him too long to find a healing potion, and breathed a sigh of relief after drinking it. The effects of the harming potion finally dissipated, and the minor scrapes from his fall healed- but the larger cut on his arm was still stinging. And then he finally got a good look at it.

The bleeding had more or less stopped thanks to the healing potion, but it was still a glaring, sickening red. But that wasn’t all. There was a pulsing red something spreading beneath his skin in a veiny web. The strange red web had already taken up most of his forearm, and he hadn’t even been cut by whatever it was for that long. And the healing potion didn’t do a thing to the cut besides stop it from bleeding.

Scott’s breath got quicker as the panic began to set in. What was he supposed to do? He definitely didn’t know what was happening, or what effect this cut and the resulting corruption in his skin would have. And he didn’t exactly have anyone he could go to for help… unless he finally got over himself and went to Pearl or Gem. They left the Wither Rose Alliance too- surely they would be on his side and be willing to help him?

His mind made up, Scott flew to Gem’s empire. She was closer than Pearl was, and was the land’s resident magic expert. Surely she could help Scott. But when Scott made it there, the Crystal Cliffs seemed vacant. Gem was nowhere to be seen, unless she was in one of her towers, in her home nestled in the cliffside, or really any other building in her empire. Before Scott could call out to Gem for help, his head spun. While the healing potion had helped at first, the stinging pain from the cut on his arm was back in full force, he was still a little battle-weary from dealing with Fwhip and Sausage’s little “gift,” and the flight to Gem’s took a lot more out of him than he thought. Scott took a step forward, intending to try and make his way towards one of the buildings in Gem’s empire- and promptly fell on his face. He laid there for a few moments, dimly realizing he should be trying to get up. But his head felt foggy and his arm stung like hell- and he couldn’t quite get any of his limbs to respond. He finally mustered the strength to push himself up on the forearm that wasn’t cut and pulsing with corruption- but that small movement took what remaining energy he had, and his arm gave out as he fell into the embrace of unconsciousness with a groan.

-

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[meggannn]

shepard/garrus?

oh boy, sorry for the late response! I always end up posting these things and then going to read/take a nap/play a game or something. anyway writing this up took two hours, i hope it is even slightly interesting to read. cut because this is looooooong

What made you ship it?

I think I was interested in this ship before I even played ME. I was just like “I know Shepard is a character and an alien named Garrus is a character, and people draw porn of them together.” because I think it’s reasonable to say it’s one of, if not the most, popular ship in the fandom, or at least in ME’s tumblr fandom? and the way people talked about it, I knew their tropes were #banter, #battle couple, #partnerships, and... and as we’ve learned from royai, I am a bit weak to those tropes (assuming I like both of the characters). the way people talked about them also from a “best friends” angle—which is sort of forced in-game in a way that seems strange to me now—was also a plus in its favor at the time. (if they get together, I do see their friendship/companionship, in whatever form, in some ways integral to their romance—unless you’re playing full far-right renegade who’s like a xenophobe and hate-fucking Garrus, I guess?—but Bioware also kind of shoehorned Garrus into that best-friend role and that’s a topic for another day.)

What are your favorite things about the ship?

(my friend will hit me if I say “partnerships” again) I’m gonna talk about the way I play my Shepard now, because so much is dependent on the unique Shepard. for Lydia’s journey over the series, I see a large part of her journey as basically a study of her (often self-inflicted) loneliness. and she never entirely breaks her habits of self-isolation, but the events of the series force her to be vulnerable in a way she would prefer not to be in front of a crew, or, y’know, ever. Garrus becomes an integral part of that story to help her break her out of these bad habits (all of the crew does, particularly also Ashley for my Shep), but to my eyes, the story of “Shepard and Garrus’s relationship” is also one of mutual respect, burden-sharing, and sanity and morality checks.

I don’t think of their “mentor” relationship in ME1 very often mostly because I don’t think it was done particularly well, but for all its faults, I do like how naturally the jump from “subordinate” in ME1 to “ally” in ME2 felt; once you meet Garrus on Omega you feel more on the same footing as two friends greeting each other because you’ve both recently been through trauma and the sight of a friendly face in a station full of hostiles is so unexpectedly welcome that it lets them both hope things will be okay for a minute. starting from that moment, Garrus becomes one of the few people who can see “under” her mask, I guess: partly because he’s one of the few combatants from the SR-1 who knows Shepard well and sees who she is both on the field and onboard the SR-2, with the ability to compare both to the times of “before you died”; partly because he has trauma response training and recognizes it in others even if he doesn’t in himself; partly because his loyal personality makes him sensitive to wonder how she’s dealing with being resurrected; and also partly because they’ve both gone through similar things. namely, getting your squad killed and blaming yourself for it, and it possibly being your fault (BioWare is inconsistent on what Shepard’s role was on Akuze, but in ME1 she has the chance to reply that she was responsible for getting them out safely, and failed).

necessity forces Shepard to adapt to things like being effectively forced to work for terrorists; being isolated from her support system; being resurrected and feeling like a stranger in her own body; later, getting decommissioned for making an incredibly difficult call to save the galaxy; watching your homeworld burn; being forced into a political role negotiating high stakes you don’t know how to play; being told you’re the spearhead of a galactic war; doing all of this without a full crew complement; the list goes on. those are all, on their own, incredibly isolating, traumatic experiences, and my Shepard’s not emotionally sane at the best of times. (emotionally stable, perhaps, only in the most literal of terms, at least on the surface. she’s like a rock when shit hits the fan. emotionally sane, no, for that reason and more.)

the tables have turned, and Garrus ends up becoming a large part of helping her regain agency in most if not all of those things: in ME2 he was a former crew member she trusted, and he was eager to work for her and be distracted from his failures on Omega. over in the battery, he is himself recovering from a major injury (like Shepard) and going through the aftermath of a bloodbath he feels responsible for (like Shepard), working on a crew that holds him at arm’s length, that he also... arguably... didn’t have much choice in joining (like Shepard—I’m assuming he wasn’t held hostage and joined voluntarily after waking up, but lbr this is unconfirmed). their reasons are different and varied, but they don’t realize until much later that they have found each other at the most opportune time, providing a sense of stability for each other, and also, frankly, sanity and morality checks.

in ME3, he steps into this role more fully because he’s become more disciplined, is doing work firmly in his wheelhouse, and paired up against Shepard struggling with their positions somewhat reversed from ME1: him more confident and her now completely out of her element, floundering with her place on a galactic scale. without Garrus—and Chakwas, and Joker, and Tali, and later the loyalty of the entire SR-2—the story of ME would be a tragedy, and it would end shortly in ME2; it’d be the story of how my Shepard slowly went insane being forced to fight boogeymen under a terrorist banner. Garrus isn’t, like, the keeper of her sanity, but their ability to check each other, and see themselves in the eyes of each other, provides stability and occasionally a bit of a wake-up call to both of them. when they’re both vulnerable, they both feel most seen, and most understood, by an alien that listens.

one angle of this ship that highly interests me at the moment, along with the above, is that while it’s not illegal for them to be together, it’s still... a really bad fucking idea lmao. (I could make the argument that it’s a bad idea for Shepard to be in any relationship with their crew but I think there are a few ships—Garrus, Tali, any Alliance crew at all—that realistically would be huge political clusterfucks.) so overcoming personal insecurity and fear of the unknown to acknowledge interest in each other, and the desire to become an item, getting roadblocked by a reality wake-up call with the fact that 1) she’s his boss, 2) Garrus comes from a society where station matters, like, sort of a lot and it even determines your job and how much legal power you have, 3) the potential political blowback (which would be ENORMOUS because lbr the hierarchy may not care about what turians do in off-hours but they WOULD care about the superior/subordinate thing, the human thing, the fact that they’re doing this while a war is going on. basically one of their best agents is on the Normandy to negotiate their interests and they’re basically at the whims of their relationship the whole time)... it’s a lot! all of that sort of makes it tragic, but I’m curious to see how they’d overcome it.

anyway, all of that is where I’m coming from when I think or write about this ship, but there’s a lot more I’m not mentioning here. there are a lot of juxtapositions that in my head that I’ve either added or extrapolated from canon that also interest me about this pairing. Garrus is a former cop, as is his father; Lydia is a poor kid who used to be in a gang out of necessity. Garrus is a turian with often traditionalist thinking; Shepard is a human who has much less sociopolitical power than him, even if she is his superior on the Normandy. both of them are roughly as old as the First Contact War, when their people were at each other’s throats not thirty years ago. Garrus idolizes Spectrehood while Lydia hates it, feeling it was forced on her. they can’t eat the same food. and yet despite all of that, and the fact that they need translators to communicate, they manage to understand each other when a lot of the world around them doesn’t.

god this is not even the full list of it. anyway I could go on but I’ll stop there lol.

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

oh jesus, so much. I’m a grouchy and picky shipper, be warned.

pining can always make my ships more interesting, and imo it’s a consistent part of any ship of Shepard’s, considering it’s wildly inappropriate and unprofessional for her to be fucking any subordinate, so I think more consideration could be given to shakarian in the “we shouldn’t be having a thing and oh also you’re an alien and I’m kind of scared of both your government and your body” angle! I hope to explore that a bit with a fic I’m writing (if I ever finish it, god).

I hate the flavor of fandom!shakarian where Shepard romanced Kaidan in ME1 then felt “betrayed” when he’s confused and hurt on Horizon, so she gets with Garrus as like... revenge? idk. and then Garrus usually develops this bias against Kaidan as a sort of author mouthpiece (which is inconsistent with his characterization cause Garrus is nothing but pleased to have Kaidan back on the SR-2 in ME3!) and takes up the anti-Kaidan crusade cause K ~questioned the commander~ (since when does Garrus fall over himself defending a superior from criticism?) like, idk. I think Garrus can be sensitive to the fact that that reuniting must’ve been painful for Shepard, but also be aware that it was also really painful for Kaidan because all of Kaidan’s complicated feelings about Shepard’s resurrection were, realistically, things Garrus should’ve felt too! this trope is very popular but just feels like manufactured drama for drama’s sake, idk, I’m also not big on love triangles so. I would much rather people just rescue Ashley on Virmire and avoid the whole thing rather than have previously-romanced Kaidan around in ME3 for the sole purpose of forcing him to watch Shepard/Garrus being happy together tbh.

I think full goody-goody paragon Shepard is too preachy to make a good partner for Garrus and full shoot-anyone-in-my-way renegade Shepard encourages and emboldens his worst tendencies (and Castis Vakarian is right to disapprove of them). most people end up playing some combination of both, or if they do settle in one camp or the other, usually there is some sense of realism where Shepard doesn’t play nice/naive or play mean all the time, so it’s rare I see either of those kinds of extreme Shepards depicted, but in general if there is a Shepard that is so far in one direction it seems illogical to me that they ever stay together.

I think wanting a mShep romance for Garrus is a pretty welcome idea in fandom, but adding onto that, I think Garrus should’ve been romanceable in ME3 for players who changed their minds on other romances or want to play slow-burn romances! we had it for Kaidan—and should’ve had it for Ash—so (pounds fist on desk) Garrus too imo!

I hate the canon get-together because Shepard walking into the battery and asking “do you want to fuck” feels very tailored to the players who want to romance Garrus, not to who Commander Shepard is, imo. it lacked all of the subtlety and depth of some other romances—until the scene of Garrus coming to her cabin with a wine bottle, at least, cause I do like that scene, but anyway, I dislike the actual get-together.

just in general, I’m a stick in the mud, so my favorite iteration of this ship is where Shepard is resolutely professional, and the challenge of it becomes him getting her to open up, not the other way around. like, I think on some level every iteration of Shepard is a bit of a lunatic/eccentric, because you have to be to do the things they do, but I like to see their flirting with less of her calling him “big guy” (not sure where that came from, is that in canon? I must’ve missed it, but personally I don’t like it) and more of Garrus making wisecracks in the canteen while he’s talking to Joker, but he’s looking at her out of the corner of his eyes and he really said his joke with the aim of making her laugh, and as she’s reading her datapad she hears him, and even when she wants to chuckle she stops himself and just smirks cause she doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction of a laugh, but he sees her lips twitch and feels his heart flutter. that. I want more of that.

oh lastly, I hate “Shepard takes Vakarian clan markings” in any iteration. there is no canon relation to turians being poc—in fact I’d argue they have sociopolitical privilege real-world bipoc do not—but the concept of social face markings, face tattoos, etc., is rooted in non-white cultures and with the fact that 1) turians had a literal civil war over the territories those markings represent, 2) we don’t even know if marriage is how markings are shared or if non-turians are ever invited to wear them in the first place, 3) most of the art of this trend, lbr, is of mostly white Shepards in wedding dresses and blue face paint... all that combined just makes me frown and scroll faster every time I see it. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a bipoc Shepard with Vakarian face markings in fic/art, and that to me is very telling (not because they should have them, but because bipoc fans who make bipoc Shepards usually recognize when a racially-coded trope is uhhhhh not so great to appropriate for someone not of that group).

[franeridart]

Anon said: Opinions on Ochamina?

Cute soft and pink! Would be my main ship for those two if I didn’t ship seromina and ochadeku as hard as I do

Anon said: Hi there i was just wondering if its okay to ask you some questions about your art tools i work on paper a lot but i want to switch to digital art and want to know what to buy to get started you know?? if its not okay to ask thats fine, have a nice day!

I use Easy Pain Tool SAI and a wacom tablet so old I’m pretty sure they don’t even make them anymore haha if you’re just starting then anything is fine, really! The first thing you’ll need to do will be to get used to the feel of it, you won’t need anything fancy for that imho

Anon said: Yet again, I’m sleepy and feeling sappy so I luv youwu~

Awwww thank you so much!!! <3<3

Anon said: well guess who now has A LOT OF FEELINGS about Seromina after your reply? This anon. Holy, now I need like all the content about them. *goes of in search* Thank you for sharing your headcanon because it made me feel a lot of fluffy feelings!! Which yay!! I need more fluffly feelings in my life!! Also love love love your art. All of it original content and everything else (with a very soft sport for kiribaku and the bakusquad)

Ah heck thank you!!! And I’m very very glad to see I could make you see why I like them!!! :D

Anon said: how do you draw hair? i keep trying digitally, but it just seems so difficult! i tend to have so much trouble because i keep comparing myself to artists like you and the way you draw/shade/highlight hair is such a mystery to me!

Hmmmmm this is a hard question because I honestly mostly just go by gut feeling - I try to keep in mind gravity when it’s applicable (aka when it’s not gravity-defying hairstyles like kiri and baku’s)? But that’s the most conscious thought I put in it by this point. This might be an annoying advice to get but as always my only proper one is to look at real life people and study the way hair naturally falls on them, studying from real life is always the fastest way to learn how to draw something as far as my experience goes... and this one is gonna be hard but try not to compare yourself too much to others? Doing things your own way at your own pace will make the learning process a lot more fun!

Anon said: opinon on the lack of kiribaku interactions in the show recently? they have been interacting less and less since the provisional exam arc :( and even lesser in the manga. i miss my bois but bless you for the content omg😭💞

The truth is that they haven’t been the protagonists of an arc at the same time for so long that they’ve had little to no reason to interact with each other, and also that when Hori has characters interacting with them in the background it’s usually to have them reprimend them or tell them to shut up and at first they covered that role for each other but now they’re such good friends that all their interactions end up being them being nice to each other and Horikoshi needs his silly sketches thrown in the background at any possible moment so now Kaminari is the one you’ll see interacting with them the most, because he’s silly and doesn’t mind being a dick to either of them whenever given the chance. Or at least that’s the conclusion I came to after rereading the manga a couple months back. On the bright side they HAVE started interacting more again! We’ve been seeing them often just chilling together in the background, so cute, I love them best friends ;;;

Anon said: User kawaiiastar has reposted some of ur art just wanna let u know :)

Thank you for letting me know, I’ll look into it and see if I can get it removed orz

Anon said: ur drawings are so warm but like?? i just realized how much u talk in the tags and so ive been reading them and they actually add alot to ur art and its entertaining. idk just a little thing :) never stop doing krbk aus if you enjoy them!! would love to see stucky and soul eater if you can !! and i hear u about the reposters. they are all over instagram and its honestly quite upsetting. ive heard of artists that left the fandom because of it which is unfortunate. hope you are having a great day!

Hahaha I’m glad you like my talking too much in the tags since sometimes I just can’t avoid it lmao I have many things to say about my stuff most time than not..... anyway, I hope you’ll have a wonderful day too!

Anon said: i fight instagramers every day for you 💞

Thank you ;;;;;;;;

Anon said:  I love you so please stay safe!!

Thank you!!! I hope you’ll stay safe too, anon!!!

Anon said: During quarantine all I have to look forward to is your posts, it’s always great to check tumblr for the 14th time and see a new post by you.

;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;; heck, I’m so glad I can make this tiring time a little more pleasant to you, anon!! <3

Anon said: I have class (online) at 8am and it’s currently 3:42am yet I couldn’t stop scrolling on your page!!! I’ve been going through the tags for like 30 minutes omg. I came to look at your seromina stuff and now I’m looking at EVERYTHING. I’ve been following you for so long and I love your art so much I’m screaming! I’m literally accidentally unliking then liking everything again cuz I’ve seen it all and keep forgetting I already liked it! Your account is like food for my soul ily!!!!! Thank you sm!!!

Ahhhhh anon thank you so so much!!!! You’re so kind I’m gonna tear up TTATT please do try to sleep next time you have to wake up early!!

Anon said: I read a headcanon saying Bakugo smoked. That would never happen because Kirishima would kill him.

To be fair that would never happen because he straight up said so in the first chapter of the manga lmao but I’m of the opinion that if people want to ignore canon in their headcanons to have fun they have all the power to do so!

Anon said: Idk if you’ve been asked this before, but how do you feel about Momo x Jirou? :D and I love your art!

One of my top Jirou ships! I’ve drawn stuff for them in the past actually, they’re in my momojirou tag!

Anon said: I love you way more than it’s healthy.

Thank you ;;;;;;;;; I love you a whole damn lot too, anon <3<3

[saturniandevil]

wtf your distinctions are actually insightful as hell. thank you again! lol true the books with its ye old timey language usage is a pain to read tbh but it is fascinating to understand some of the roots of tumblr astrology (do you go on other social media platforms? i heard twitter is pretty active and reddit is focused a lot on modern). yes!! i will check out the podcast series then!

your observations that makes a helluva a lot of sense. with scorpio i also was baffled that the new rulership leapt back into the zodiac (but there are modern astrologers who’ve assigned ceres as a modern ruler of taurus so i guess it’s not too out of the ordinary?) that’s true, on a planet of war, i tried to think of it like aries is the commander and scorpio is the strategist in a war. why is scorpio distrustful and secretive? you need those skills so you won’t be vulnerable to the enemy. why is aries confrontational and assertive? you needs that kind of energy to attack against and face enemies head on. you’re right tho, i don’t think pluto isn’t too far off of scorpio’s original ruler in comparison to the last two outer planets.

your description of aquarius opened my eyes. i’ve never really understood the reputation of ~visionary~ except for the fact that true, by going outside of the norm of society, aquarius ultimately acknowledges society’s rules. idk about other aquarius placements, but i have many friends with this sun who were sensitive to being called “weird” in school, since humans are social creatures, we want to fit in (yet stand out, what a paradox) right? my aquarius sun friends have surprising shy personalities to other people and preferred to keep to themselves, so uranus being given the status of its modern ruler isn’t too off. except the “i hate people” archetype because my capricorn sun friends joke about this a lot so i think it’s because saturn is such a loner. moon talks about the people themselves and the sun talks about influencing the people so it makes sense why saturn is so…people averse?

pisces is the sign that troubles me the most, like how you described, jupiter is always looking for the truth, right? but a planet connected to illusion is given to a sign of jupiter which makes my brain run in circles. jupiter does talk about religion (does this include spirituality), faith, and knowledge/teaching so no surprise why sagittarius is interested in different sets of beliefs and pisces is willing to accept beliefs related to faith (agreed, spiritual is overstated smh). that’s true, pisces as a sign focuses intensely (water sign) on other people and can be intuitive, so it absorbs the perspectives or feelings of people around them. it exalts on venus too, something that surprises people in the astrology community, because why would we want a sign like this on venus? and as a mutable sign it’s difficult to pin down (people already have a hard time pinning down sagittarius and gemini, virgo is the only one who has an easier time with this smh).

i liked how you included details on the outer planets themselves. have you ever studied neptune’s role in the opium wars? it’s fascinating as hell. all of these outer planets are malefic too lol. AMAZING. by this logic neptune with its malefic nature and pluto as the furthest planet in our solar system don’t mesh well as modern rulers (when observing the nature of classical rulers) of the signs they were given imo. uranus is just…sorry dude, we don’t know what to do with you.

i'm glad i could be of help to you! i think for understanding the planets and signs in general it really is a mix of theory and experience. personal observations can be powerful examples for really cementing the ideas in your mind, but it's important to learn examples from other astrologers too, otherwise you end up with...whatever's going on with instagram right now...

as for social media, i hear astro twitter is pretty active but i haven't used twitter at all in years. when i was i followed sam reynolds and kelly surtees. through kelly i found out about "the astrology podcast", whose episodes from the last few years are also up as youtube videos. it's a good show because he's got guests on most episodes so you can find out about a variety of different practices. rather than starting from the beginning i'd just pick a topic that interests you and go from there

personally, aside from tumblr i'm mostly on instagram but i don't recommend it for finding a wider community of astrologers since the app in general is too heavily oriented towards meme pages and selling you shit. but i like thestrology/kirah tabourn (who also runs a podcast but i haven't checked it out) and zambonifunk/tim zamboni, who does weekly forecasts every sunday and is a great way to keep up with transits. all these astrologers i recommended use a strong traditional base in their work, and they often promote their colleagues so you can find even more people to learn from.

i also recommend going to the online conferences if you can, for example the fresh voices in astrology conference is free to watch within 24 hours of each talk i believe? so it's less of a committment than, say, flying out to colorado for norwac and coughing up all that money if you're just a broke enthusiast like me. i know some people have found some good facebook groups as well, though personally i'm not great with social media and have a hard time finding large amounts of people who are interested in the admittedly very technical approaches that i am.

[alywats]

June/ July 2021 Reading Wrap-Up

So, it’s been a minute, huh? I finished my first year of grad school on June 8th, turned 23 on June 9th, and went face-down-head-empty on June 10th. I am trying to be better about managing burn-out, but that is a discussion for another time. Let’s get caught up on my spicy literary opinions, shall we?? I read significantly less than normal in June and July, but we still have 8 whole books!

1. Shrines Of Upper Austria –Phoebe Power (71 pgs) 4

This is a special poetry collection, because it was written by the person who taught me the most about poetry. In 2018 I signed up for a poetry class during my semester abroad in England, and Phoebe was my workshop leader. Cut to 3 years later, and I still think about pieces of advice Phoebe gave me, every time I write. This collection was published while I was there, and I actually went to the release event and heard her perform some of the poems, but for some reason I hadn’t gone back and actually read the whole book until now.  I love this collection a lot, it’s a mosaic of European stories and histories, specifically as they relate to WW2. I think Phoebe has such a strong voice and such a unique style of writing, in ways that may make some of her work a little difficult to unpack for some readers. Anyways, Phoebe was the first person I ever showed my writing to, she even gave me feedback on a poem that went on to circulate tumblr (lol), and she understood my voice before I really understood it myself… anyways I think you should read this if you’re into poetry!

2. Crush –Richard Siken (62 pgs) 5

I don’t know if I have the right words to describe this book. Are they love poems? Sometimes. This was an absolutely haunting reading experience. All of the poems in this book are so desperate, so obsessive, so panicked, that by the end you just need a deep breath. There is so much blood in the lines of these poems, and I think that’s the best sell I can make? I HIGHLY recommend this.

3. Grocery List Poems –Rhiannon McGavin (80 pgs) 4.5

The last thing I read on The Day I Read A Bunch Of Poetry, and it was by one of my favorite poets. This is Rhiannon’s second collection, and uh, can we get some commotion for the fruit imagery??? I really like this collection, it is very cohesive and so full of her voice (which I have come to love a lot). My favorite poem in this book is Elsa la Rose and I want everyone to read it.

4. West Of Here –Jonathan Evison (486 pgs) 3

Here, my guys, is where things took a turn. I started reading this book on like June 10th, and I did not finish it until JULY 12TH. I don’t know if my brain just finally needed to shut down after finishing a year of grad school, or if this book was actually just that painful to read. Maybe it was some combination of the two, but good lord this book was hard for me to get through. The premise was great: historical fiction about when Washington became a state with a current day Bigfoot B-plot. Woof though: I was  annoyed by every character in this book (oh and there were about 37243875 characters to keep track of across two different timelines), plus I was also kind of annoyed by how #woke and #girlboss some of the characters from the 1800’s timeline were? Clearly Evison was trying to skirt around some of the *ahem* problematic elements of colonizing Washington and treating Indiginous people the way they were treated, and also the way women were treated in the 1800s, etc… but it came off as oversimplified and cringy. This would have been a 2-star review BUT THAT BIGFOOT B-PLOT? I am a simple woman.  

5. The Pisces –Melissa Broder (270 pgs) 3.5

Haha, what? This book has mermaid sex. Okay, it also has some big Ottessa Moshfegh-esque character study elements, where we meet an unlikable narrator and relate to her *too much* for comfort. This is a read where you feel uneasy the whole time and the ending kept me awake for a little while after I finished it. It’s gross, it’s weird, and most of all there is a fish man ready for action. Did I like this? Who’s to say, really.

6. All The Light We Cannot See –Anthony Doerr (531 pgs) 3.5

This I read as a buddy read with my good friend Carly! Carly and I met the first day of college and we did music stuff together throughout. Now, we are both yelling about books on the internet (her book instagram is @book.trunks if you want to check out her hot takes!). But on to this book…. sad, just sad.

This book kind of wrecked me? And I did really like the writing. I became invested in the characters immediately, and the structure of the book felt like a kind of fragmented flashback, which is fitting for a traumatic book about WW2. I am becoming really sensitive to the ways authors use trauma like this though, did this book make me feel things because it was full of good, emotional writing? Or did descriptions of extreme suffering evoke those feelings because I am a human and WW2 was a nightmare? Does this matter? I don’t know, but this book was sad and I *think* I liked it?

7. Sweetbitter –Stephanie Danler (356 pgs) 2.5

This is pretentious lit-fic in its most pure essence. An overwritten coming-of-age/ finding yourself novel with minimal plot set in New York City, baby –the city of dreams! Our protagonist has a tragic past, and working in a fancy restaurant shows her things about the city and its people that make her question her place there. There’s sex and drugs along the way, and maybe NYC isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, hmm? Or, maybe this is *exactly* where she’s supposed to be. Does this sound exceedingly boring and predictable, because it was.

8. Supernatural Strategies For Making a Rock ‘n’ Roll Group –Ian F. Svenonius (250 pgs) 4

This is a quirky little nonfiction (memoir?? art piece?) about what it means to start a rock ‘n’ roll band! I thought this was super interesting and it reminded me of Chuck Klosterman’s writing a bit, so no complaints here!

[thewildwaffle]

Kidnapped Rival

So I’ve posted this Transformers au fic on Ao3 and have been writing it since Feb of last year ever since I saw an anonymous post on @zenxenophilia​‘s blog. I finally finished it, over a year and a half later.

You can read it here on Ao3, and I’ll also post the story here

Original post - submitted to Zenxenophilia on tumblr by anonymous: ***** ***** ***** Imagine a human on Optimus’ team. Optimus practically treats them like a sparkling, Ratchet is their grandpa and Bee and Arcee are like siblings. This human wants to fight in the war. For earth, for humans, for their family. Of course, Cybertron’s atmosphere is dangerous to humans making it difficult for the human to get involved. After begging and pleading to Optimus the human is put under extensive training with self defense and handling a weapon (thanks to Bee and Arcee). The human is outfitted with a mech suit disguised as a cybertronian. Even inside the mech the human has an armored space suit along with a blaster that can filter oxygen out of Cybertron's atmosphere just in case the mech were to break. It doesn’t take long for the human to climb the ranks(being the ‘child’ of Optimus helps a lot). The human uses a Cybertronian persona. Later they go out to the Cybertronian battlefields. This is where they meet Deadlock, Megatron’s maddog, the one responsible for so many deaths to the human’s friends. The Human quickly becomes Deadlocks rival, able to counter all his attacks and save Autobots from his clutches. After a while Deadlock develops a strange liking to the 'mech’, he seems to almost enjoy seeing them on the battlefield. One fateful day the Human and Deadlock run into each other on the battlefield, it’s just the two of them. Deadlock has trained a lot more after the first few encounters with the 'mech’ and the 'mech’ sadly couldn’t keep up, however, it didn’t stop them from doing a number on Deadlock. Deadlock is smart, he makes sure to damage the mech’s legs to most so they can’t run anywhere. The one thing that he enjoys about fighting the 'mech’ is that they don’t seem to feel pain. The mech can no longer stand up or move, it’s stuck. Deadlock oddly enough doesn’t kill them.

“You would make a great Decepticon”. … W-What? Was that an offer? Oh hell no! The Human would never join this monster after all he’s done to their friends! The Human gets out of their mech, much to Deadlocks surprise. What a lovely twist! The Human uses their blaster to keep damaging Deadlock, ducking for cover. Even out of their mech they were a threat to any Cybertronian, however, they weren’t as fast as one. Deadlock didn’t use his weapons, that would make it too easy, instead, he scoops the Human up ignoring the humans screams. He takes away their weapons and destroys their commlink. “Well well well. Who would have known? This explains a lot…” Deadlock forces the human to look up at him. His little obsession, his rival, was an organic… and a pretty cute one too!(Though he’ll never admit it) The Human struggles in his grip. “Now now. I don’t think you should do that” His grip tightens around the Human. 'It would be a shame if your armor were t’ break…’ the human stiffens, without the armor they would suffocate. “Heh.. I think I’m gonna keep you for a long while friend…” Deadlock keeps his rival on him at all times at the Decepticon base. No one is allowed to touch them but him. Most Decepticons see the Human as a living trophy to Deadlock, a pet, not knowing of Deadlock’s obsessive desires. Megatron is quite surprised by Deadlock's new pet. Megatron knew the mech that the human-piloted was Optimus’ favorite bot, not only would the Human be a good bargaining chip, but they probably know all the Autobots' little secrets. Megatron will let Deadlock do whatever he wants to do with the Human for now, after all, he earned it. Deadlock was happy with this. Meanwhile back at the Autobot base, Optimus is filled with grief. His precious human, his child, gone without a trace. He didn’t know if they were dead or not, Optimus sends out search parties for them, he regrets letting them in this war, they were too young. Ratchet is constantly checking for signals in his free time, for any sign that they were alive. Bumblebee goes quiet for a long time. He knows his sibling HAS to be alive! They have to be! They don’t die easily. He tries scout on more missions so he can find them. Arcee is filled with rage. That was her precious little sibling. Her anger is taken out on the battlefield. She questions any con she can for a sign of the human. She’s always training always, looking, always holding back her grief and the ideas that her sibling could be dead or tortured. No one has ever seen her like this. The human's disappearance is hard on everyone. That kid would constantly befriend and check up with everyone they saw, they were kind, helpful, and eager to learn. It’s dull without them at the base. They’re not there to tell Prowl to stop overworking himself. They aren’t there to help Wheeljack or Percy with their experiments. They aren’t there to jam out with Jazz or Blaster or to talk to and check up with everyone in the base. No one to listen to Ironhide's or Kup's stories. No one to complement Sunstreaker and play with Sideswipe. Everyone is heartbroken. This base isn’t a base without the kid running around. They can only hope that the human is still alive. The Decepticon base is another story. The human is filled with information about the Autobots, with the human on their side the war is in the bag. They have coordinates and information on practically every bot in the base and maybe… with a bit of mnemosurgey they could be an excellent Decepticon. The human is fine. They’re patient. They’re smart, they know how to play their cards, (Perceptor and Wheeljack taught them) they just have to play along with Deadlock and the cons for now. Hopefully, the Human can escape or pray that Optimus will find them. And hopefully, Deadlock has mercy on them.

***** ****** *****

My adding to the story:

The room was filtered, much like the human’s armored spacesuit had been. The entire Decepticon base was, not that the human had spent much time outside their room. When they did leave the room, it was for “questioning.” And it was always accompanied by Deadlock. Usually being carried by Deadlock. Actually, always carried by Deadlock. He said it was because he didn't want his human to get lost or crushed under the peds of a careless con. Really, it was to feel their rival squirm in his tight grip. Megatron had been present for a few of the first interrogations, but other duties or battles made his presence less and less frequent, which was fine by the human. As far as they were concerned, there were more than enough Decepticons around as it was. Using techniques Wheeljack had taught them, they “gave up” the info the cons wanted, just not all of it. It was just enough to keep the Decepticons from getting suspicious, get them to believe that the information that they pulled from Deadlock’s new pet was indeed genuine, but not enough info, they hoped, to really cause too much damage to the Autobots. The human needed to find a way out of this nightmare before the Decepticons caught on to what they were doing. Or before they gave up info that could actually do damage to the Autobots. It was getting harder and harder to keep the vital info they held away from their more sadistic interrogators.

The human loses track of time since being captured. Deadlock had taken their armored space suit soon after bringing them here. “No need for it here, little friend.” His sinister smile always made the human uneasy, but he just laughed at their rival’s defiant expression, putting the suit away in his subspace and leaving for another mission, making sure to lock the door behind him. When the human had time alone in the room, they scoured every inch for some means of escape. The vents looked promising, but getting to them would be difficult, even if they scaled the height of the berth or the desk, they were too short to reach. They need a better plan.

Meanwhile, the searches Optimus organized finally turned up something. If it's a good something or not has yet to be decided. It was Bumblebee who found it- the mech suit the human had been piloting when they went missing. He brought it back to base and everyone nearly lost their minds! The human, their human, without their protective mech suit?! Their armor they wore underneath was not found though, did that mean they had it and were still alive? The mech was severely damaged, they must have tried to run on foot and been captured. But by whom? And were they still alive now? Hopefully Perceptor would be able to find out something from the damaged mech to get some clue to the human’s location.

For the human, however, thoughts of being rescued seemed to be little more than a hopeful wish. Deadlock did his best to make sure that any such wish seemed less and less likely. “They’ll never find you,” he tells them. “They've given up looking for you long ago.” Or “Even if they did find out you were still alive, what makes you think they'll want you after what you've done? It was your information that lead us to victory in the Cronus Plains. How many of them did we kill because of you?” Deadlock took great pleasure in seeing his rival’s reaction to this. He smiled, knowing he could break his once-mortal-enemy both mentally as well as physically. Lifting their chin with one sharp finger he cooed, “I told you before, you'd make a good Decepticon. It seems I was right.” He moves closer, a dangerous, hungry gleam flashed in his optics. As Deadlock took a step forward, the human took two steps back. Deadlock chuckled and used mass-displacement to shrink down to just taller than the human. The human dodges his reach and turns and runs towards the berth to hide. Such a tactic seemed childish, and was doomed to fail, but it was better than doing nothing, it was some show of resistance. Deadlock was a lot… “touchier”... when he was this size, simply because it was easier to be so when the risk of crushing the object of his obsession was so much lessened. He grabbed the human by the shoulders and pulled them closer to him. “You're tense,” he murmurs, running one servo down their back. “Let me put you more at ease, my pet.” While still holding them so they couldn't get away, Deadlock stroked and prodded, massaging knots in their back and expertly melted the struggling human in his grasp. The human felt both frustrated by how effectively they'd been incapacitated, and blissfully relaxed as the tension they'd been carrying fell away. With what mental capacities they had left, the human willed themselves to make sure they made no moans or hums that would betray their pleasure to the Decepticon. After few minutes, Deadlock’s servos paused. He turned the human around to face him, holding them close and tight to his chassis. “There now, better?” One servo traveled down the small of the human’s back. The human didn't respond. Oh they wished they could be anywhere but here! They thought of the Autobot base, of their friends, of the bots that had become their family. Could what Deadlock said earlier be true? Had they given up looking for them? Did they blame them for giving up information? They must. The human sure did. As much as they tried to stop it from happening, the human let out a sob. Just the one, but it was one too many.

“There, there, none of that now,” rumbled Deadlock, “What's there to cry about? I've kept you alive. I've taken care of you. I will make sure no one dares harm you. You're one of us now.” He paused, his red optics glowing brighter. “You're mine.” He leaned forward, crushing his lips into the human’s. So taken by surprise, the human tried yelling out, which only made Deadlock squeeze them tighter in his arms, his glossa filling their opened mouth. The human struggled against his grip, but it was quickly obvious that they weren't going anywhere. As Deadlock’s servos traveled across their body, an idea of a plan came into their mind. It was a dangerous idea. It was an incredibly stupid idea, but maybe it was stupid enough to work. Instead of fighting against him, the human pushed into the kiss. Slowly, carefully, they loosed one arm and reached around to Deadlock’s neck, stroking the sensitive cables. He shivered delightedly as his cooling fans kicked on. After another moment, the human slid their other hand slowly up his chassis to where they'd seen their space suit stored away before. Lights all across Deadlock's body flickered. He reached one arm out to the berth to try to lift them both up onto it.

It was quick, before Deadlock could process what happened, the human pulled themselves away from him, opened his subspace compartment, yanked their suit out, and with one steady movement they had learned from Arcee, wrenched his arm behind his back and pinned him face down into the ground. Hard into the ground. They hoped that would be enough to keep their captor stunned long enough to get a good head start. They jumped up and ran to the door. If they could make it to the hallway and find a hiding spot, they could get their suit on and sneak out of the Decepticon base. They'd be free! The door was not locked, but it was closed and very heavy. They had only managed to crack it open when Deadlock began picking himself up off of the floor. Well, there went their head start. The human gave the door one last shove with their shoulder and started squeezing through. They were just about out when the door completely opened, sending them tumbling to the floor. Deadlock, now returned to his full size, reached down, scooped them up, and tossed them back into the room, sending them rolling across the floor. The door shut again with a loud metallic thud, followed by a click indicating that it was now locked. “I must admit, you're very good.” Deadlock's voice was dangerously calm, he almost seemed amused. “I've always known you were, the first time I saw you on the battlefield, I found you to be exceptional. A challenge for me after so many boring victories. Where was that again- our first? It's been a while, hasn't it?” He picked up the human again, who groaned at the movement of their bruised body. “Was… it was just outside... Simfur,” the human gasped, still trying to catch their breath after having it knocked out of them by the throw. “I must say... your hand-to-hand combat... hasn't improved much since then. I don't even need my mech suit to take you.” Now was certainly not the best time to sass-mouth a psychopathic killer robot, but the human was beyond caring. Deadlock only chuckled and held them close, pinning them to him so they couldn't move. “That may be. I've found I've always done well enough with my weapons though.” He began stroking the human's back absent-mindedly as he sat down on the berth. “Perhaps with a bit of mnemosurgery, you'd be more willing to stick around and give me some pointers.” The human's voice was a bit muddled y Deadlock's hold, but they said something along the lines of “like hell I will.” Deadlock mused to himself about future days with his then-compliant human, smiling at all the implications that shadowplay could bring. “It will be interesting to see how well mnemosurgery works on an organic, but I'm sure it will do wonders.” With the adrenaline of their failed escape attempt fading, and warm living metal surrounding them, the human felt exhaustion creeping in. Before they completely slipped away, they thought of Optimus and for a moment, they were back at the base, surrounded by the Autobots. Would they ever train with Bumblebee and Arcee again? Would they ever help Sunstreaker feed Bob again? Ever listen to another story from Ironhide, only to be interrupted by Kupp who told them ’how it really happened?’ They hoped so. They hoped the Autobots still wanted them back. “I’m sorry” they muttered as sleep finally overtook them.

*****    *****    *****    *****    *****    *****

Deadlock had been watching intently from the moment the mnemosurgeon entered the room. He was tense and anxious about what was going to happen, but inwardly giddy at the prospects a successful outcome could bring. Thinking back, it had been rather easy to convince Lord Megatron about going through with the procedure. Granted, Deadlock had kept all reasoning points to how it could help scrape out any remaining info the human had been resiliently holding back, further the Decepticon cause, and provide a severe blow to Optimus and his Autobots when they found out what had happened to their small, spunky, cute, soft… Deadlock shook his head ever so slightly. His mind was wandering again. It did that fairly often when he thought of his little rival. He watched as the mnemosurgeon inserted his needles to the base of their head. It was only two needles, and they couldn't be fully extended. As had been explained to him, mnemosurgeon was possible on organic life, but the process was different, and the results, varied. Instead of direct manipulation of memories as without on a cybertronian, organic life had to be done indirectly, usually through the twists and turns of emotions. Brains and processors, while shockingly similar, had their own operating systems, so to speak. The translation of mnemosurgery to an organic brain was difficult. It had been difficult to find someone capable of doing such a feat. Harder still, one willing to do it for him. Just in case the difficult and dangerous operation went awry, few wanted to run the risk of telling Deadlock they'd turned his little pet into a braindead bag of flesh. But he'd found one. A small lanky bot who went by the name Trepan. He seemed confident in his abilities and didn't even bat an optic when Deadlock added a bit more to his task. He was to not only seek out info, as he had told Megatron the purpose of this was, but he also wanted a few alterations. Nothing big, just a nudge, really. His little human, his little rival was still fighting him. They just needed a little mental persuasion to be sure that in the end, Deadlock won their little game.

It felt… weird. Were you floating? Were you sitting? Did it even matter? If this was weird, then what was normal? You couldn't think of the answer. Should that trouble you? You weren't sure. There was a voice that seemed to say it was fine. Well, it wasn't a voice so much as an idea. Basically, it said everything was alright, or more, the "voice" felt like everything was alright. Everything was according to plan. What plan? Was there a plan? Had you forgotten to do something for it? No, the voice that wasn't a voice came again, everything was fine, perfectly fine, just be calm. Oh, calm. That sounded nice. You hadn't really been calm for a long time. Not since before the battle with Deadlock, back when you were with the Autobots and, and… wait, what was the beginning of that thought? Calm. Oh yes, calm. You'd been calm for so long, you were the master at calm. How long had you been calm? Always. Oh, ok. That sounds nice, being calm is nice. Something seemed to nag in the back of your mind, something you were worried about, or should be worried about. What was it again? Is it about Deadlock?- the voice seemed to question sweetly. Uhhh, yes. Yes, it probably was. Why worry about him? He was perfectly fine. He can handle himself. No, not worried like that, it was more like… like… Why worry about him at all? Because, you thought. Because of what he's done. The battle- he took- The training- the voice corrected almost as instantaneously as you thought each word. He saved- The training where we fought. He saved me and took me back to base. I've been trying to get away. I have to get back, everyone's probably so worried. Oh, how did this line of thought start? Go back. Deadlock. He saved me during training and I've been trying to do something ever since. Do what? What was I doing? Uhhh… escape?- Leave, the word was replaced almost seamlessly again. Why leave? Deadlock would be so worried about you. You wouldn't want that. Oh, no, I guess not, right? Was that why I was worried about Deadlock earlier? Yeah, probably. He will be so worried when I'm gone. Then why go? He wants to take care of you, you need to be taken care of. Oh, yes. That was a good point. Cybertron wasn't exactly kind on humans. You needed help for sure. And if that help came from Deadlock, well then- But something still nagged in the back of your mind. Something? A couple of things? What were they? Did it matter? Did the somethings matter? What did matter? Deadlock. That's what mattered. And you mattered to him. In fact, you mattered so much to him that he was taking care of you. Oh, that's nice of him. Yes, very nice. You have nothing to be worried about with him around. It's easy to be calm around him. Yeah, it is. Very easy. Especially when he holds me...

*****    *****    *****    *****    *****    *****

Red Alert had checked the readouts. Had double checked them. Triple checked them. He had to be sure before he told anyone else. There'd been a pattern with the past few battles with the Decepticons. A mis-step on their part here, late arrivals and backups, tactical errors that seemed out of place of their usual methods. Yes, the Decepticons had won several important victories lately, but there was something off. It was like someone was feeding them misinformation and half-truths. The timing was too much to be a coincidence. Good thing that Red Alert didn’t believe in coincidences. The human, their human- was alive. And they were being held captive and questioned by the Decepticons. It took a bit of investigating. Red Alert felt confident enough to bring his discovery to Prime. He had to be sure. At the same time, he knew he had to make sure he had to hurry. Who knew how much longer the human would last with the Deceptions! By the time Optimus returned to base later that day, Red Alert and more than half the team were there waiting. "What's all this? What's going on?" Red Alert without a moment of hesitation handed Prime the datapad. “Sir, we have reason to believe that we know where (name) is being kept.” *** The human woke up wrapped in Deadlock’s arms. He was still in recharge from the even sounds of his air intake. They looked drearily up at his face. It was rare to see him look so calm. As they slowly became fully awake, they pulled as much of the soft blankets they could reach more tightly around them. They couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong. They frowned. What a way to wake up! But what? Was it because of Deadlock’s latest mission assignments? He often had to leave to fight or to do tasks given to him by Megatron. They were usually very dangerous and the human would hold his arm tightly in worry when he would return and recount his day to them. Were they worried about Deadlock getting hurt, or worse yet, not coming back at all? Well, yes, of course. Especially with this latest mission. But was that really the reason behind this guttural feeling of dread. They were anxious, like they had to act and act now before it was too late! What were they supposed to do?! They tried getting up without disturbing Deadlock. Something was wrong, but what could it possibly be? The human's breathing started to become frantic. It felt stuffy in the room. They wished they could go outside. Or well, maybe not outside on Cybertron, that would be deadly without their suit. It felt like every cell of their body was craving the feel of unfiltered sunshine. Their lungs yearned for even a whiff of fresh air. Walking on soft grass? Yes please. Digging through rich, organic-filled soil? It was like part of their soul hungered desperately for it. They tried to remember the last time they’d felt any of that back on Earth. They had taken it for granted then, not realizing how much they’d miss it when they went to Cybertron to join the Autobots. They’d been too full of righteous anger then, wanting vengeance for their losses, hoping to help end the war sooner in any way they could. They didn’t realize how much they’d miss… Their heart froze in their chest. Autobots? When they’d left Earth, they’d gone to join the... Autobots? That couldn’t be right? That didn’t make sense! The more they thought about it, the more their memories started to make less and less sense. The Autobots were their enemy. Right? But then why were there memories of Optimus Prime giving them a tour of the Autobot base? Why had they gone on a joyride with Sideswipe? Hound had shown them some Cybertronian vegetation samples he had been preserving throughout the war. Arcee and Chromia had helped them translate their fighting moves to combat while in a battle suit. They nearly gasped in shock as feelings of guilt and grief flooded their brain. Why were they feeling this? Why did they miss them? Where were these memories coming from? Recoiling, they searched their mind. Deadlock had met them on Earth, had saved them from an Autobot attack? They frowned. That memory felt so colorless and hollow compared to the new ones they’d discovered, but they continued. They’d begged Deadlock to let them come with him to Cybertron. He’d trained them to fight. Shockwave built the battle suit which was destroyed. It was a close call, but they’d survived. Deadlock hadn’t let them leave the Decepticon Base since, too worried about their safety. That… that was there. In their mind. Images of memories were there, acting as evidence of their validity. But… the more they were examined, the more things started falling apart. Cracks started forming in the memories, like dried paint on a balloon when you inflate it, or puzzle pieces that don’t quite fit together. And like a mis-matched puzzle, the whole image was starting to make less and less sense the more they thought about it. Something was wrong. Something was terribly, terribly wrong. Despite the human’s efforts to remain still and calm, Deadlock started stirring. His optics came back online and their red light spilled down onto the smaller human. “You’re awake early today,” he commented in a deep, still somewhat sleepy voice. “How did you sleep?” "Fine," they muttered stiffly. Deadlock pulled them in tightly, his lips resting against the shell of their ear. "Mmmmmmhmmmmm. Something is troubling you," he paused as if waiting for a response. When none came, he turned the human around to face them. "What’s wrong? Tell me.” He paused again, but there was only silence. “How can I fix what’s troubling you if you don't tell me?” The human frowned, conflicted about what to say, or if they should say anything at all. They gave in as Deadlock’s grip began getting unbearably tight. “How long have I been here?” The grip became significantly more loose as Deadlock’s expression changed to a mix of surprise and confusion. “What was that?” “How… how long have I been here,” they ask again, their confidence waxing a bit stronger as they seemed to find their voice. “What have I done?” The human could feel Deadlock tense at the question for just an instant before he relaxed again and responded in a dangerously sweet tone, "What kind of question is that? Where is all this coming from?" The human had enough sense to know that telling the truth about these new and confusing memories would only make trouble. If they were false, then it would only upset Deadlock unnecessarily. If they were true... well, they weren’t sure what that would mean just yet, but it definitely wasn’t good. In the meantime, they had to think of something to say. Deadlock’s red eyes were burning into their own. Thinking on the spot, they came up with what they could and told a half-truth. “I had… a strange dream. I don’t know if it was a nightmare or not, it just… it was… strange.” “Strange? How so?” The human panicked a bit, but kept their cool. That’s what Wheeljack had taught them before right? Wait, right? Uh, well that was kind of the question and problem right now. They had to come up with something to say and quick, so they continued on with the half-truths. “I think I just miss Earth. I was dreaming about it, and then I was here with you on Cybertron, but I was also with the Autobots? But we weren’t fighting. And then Megatron was there and he was really happy about something and…” The human looked up at Deadlock with the most innocent puppy dog eyes they could muster, “I’m sorry, I know that all sounds silly. Dreams don’t always make sense though, especially when you try to explain them out lou-” Deadlock swore violently as he got up from the berth and returned to his full size. The human sat, dazed and confused as Deadlock stomped toward the door. Before he reached it, he turned back to the human. “You’re sure you were dreaming about the Autobots?” His voice was icy and sent shivers down the human’s spine. They silently nodded, still a bit in shock. With a low growl, Deadlock turned back to the door and stomped out, leaving the human locked and alone in the room. “Well,” they said aloud to themselves, “that was odd.” Odd, and terrifying. It didn’t seem to match their memories of Deadlock, or… no. No it did. Dual images of Deadlock existed. A soft, caring bot who loved them and let them stay with him while on Cybertron was mirrored by a vicious and cruel mech who had fought and captured them and now kept them here as a trophy and play-thing. But which one was real? Why were there conflicting memories in their head? The human pulled their legs in close to the rest of their body and took a deep breath in an attempt to clear their mind. They had to figure this out. They had to get to the bottom of this. What was the truth? ---- Deadlock stomped down the hall, sending lower-ranking cons scurrying out of his way as he passed. They knew better than to be in range of the mech when fury roiled in his EM field like that, it was not a safe place to be at all. He paid them no mind though. There was only one bot that needed to watch out for his wrath right now. They weren’t on base now, but as soon as Deadlock got his claws into Trepan, he was going to pay dearly. Then he was going to address and fix the spots he missed in his dear little rival’s memories, before this all got out of servo.

*****    *****    *****    *****    *****    *****

The human had been sitting in silence for, well, they weren’t sure how long. In the hours of his absence, they used Deadlock’s absence to review their memories in peace. They paced until their legs were tired. They sat to think before they grew too restless and began pacing again. How could they remember being with the Autobots and leaving Earth with Deadlock at the same time? That was impossible. Something was wrong. What was real? What was fake? Why were there fake memories in their head? Their feelings up to this point, about the Decepticons, about… about Deadlock… were those even real? Their chest felt tight as they began hyperventilating. What had happened -really happened? Why were they like this?!? They were trying to fight back tears as they searched through confusing memories when the door opened. The human glanced up apprehensively. Deadlock? They weren’t sure they were ready to face him right now. Not like this. For better or for worse, it wasn’t Deadlock. It was… it was Frenzy. The Casseticon’s silhouette was harshly lit from behind. The human stared silently, frozen in place as Frenzy stepped to the berth and pulled them up and along behind him roughly. “Looks like Deadlock’s gone off on one of his little jaunts. Humph. Just ‘cuz he’s Megatron’s favorite, he can do whatever he wants, go wherever he wants,” he looked back at the human, “take whatever he wants.” “What are you doing?” The human’s voice was barely more than a whisper. “More than what I signed up for today, that’s what,” was the gruff reply they got. Frenzy was a little more than a foot taller than they were and it was easy for him to drag the human along out the door. The relative safety of the room now gone, the human’s heart rate spiked even further. They’d left the room before. Plenty of times. But almost always with Deadlock. And definitely always not in the middle of some mental breakdown or memory mishap, or whatever the heck was going on with them! Primal fear stabbed through their stomach while at the same time, flaking memories surfaced in her mind of Deadlock telling them they’d always be safe with the Decepticons. Frenzy seemed oblivious to the mental war raging in the organic creature in his servo. He was much too focused grumbling about Deadlock’s sudden disappearance and having to cover his extra duties. “Now I get to haul you to Shockwave’s lab on top of everything else. If I were to just not show up for something, I’d never hear the end of it! Or rather, I would, right after I was put offline. But no, Deadlock can do whatever he wants whenever he wants because he’s Megatron’s little-” A loud alarm cut the disgruntled Decepticon off. He paused and looked around and tensed, then growled as he received orders over his comm. “Yeah I got the fleshie now… but I… but boss!.... Yeah, yeah, I got it. I’m going.” “Wh-what’s going on?” “Nonaya business, we’re just gonna have ta make a detour is all,” Frenzy started quickly down a corridor, nearly pulling the human’s arm out of their socket, grumbling as they struggled to keep pace. It was all they could do to avoid being dragged along behind the casseticon. Their mind raced as they tried to figure out what the heck was going on! Frenzy swore as the pair came around the corner. Two Autobots nearly ran into them, but one of them was able to jump out of the way to avoid a collision. The second smaller bot wasn’t quite as quick on his peds. The human nearly had the air knocked out of them as they crashed into the bright yellow of his chassis. “(Name)?!” The human looked up. Bumblebee? And the other… Sunstreaker? Almost immediately, a swirl of double memories assaulted their mind, laughing with Bumblebee while pulling a prank at base, helping Sunstreaker buff out some scratches after a battle with the Decepticons, dodging a blast from Bumblebee on the battlefield, hiding under debris while they prepared for a counterattack… wait, no, that hadn’t been Bumblebee, it was… it was Deadlock? Wait, what? Their stomach turned. With a screech of metal, Frenzy grabbed the slightly larger Bumblebee by the arm and swung him into Sunstreaker. Before either could recover, the casseticon ran and reached out for the human again. Just before he could grab them, a small, multi-limbed something jumped and struck him sideways. “Good boy Bob!” Sunstreaker cheered as he scooped up the small insecticon. Before the human could register what was going on, they were swept off their feet by Bumblebee who led Sunstreaker and Bob back down the corridor they came from. “No! Let me go!” the human screamed. They weren’t sure what was going on anymore and all they wanted was just a few moments to try to process what was going on and what was wrong with them. “(Name)?” Bumblebee's voice sounded shocked and worried. “(Name), it’s me, it’s, it’s us. We’re your friends, we’re here to rescue you.” he glanced back to Sunstreaker who in turn looked back briefly at where they had left Frenzy behind. For a moment, it looked like he might go back and take a few extra shots at the small Decepticon. “What have those fraggin’ cons done to them?” With a kick and a struggle, the human squirmed out of Bumblebee’s grip and bolted. They didn’t know where. All they knew was they had to find somewhere, anywhere to think. “(Name)! Come back! Please!” The human stumbled a bit. Please? Since when did Autobots say please? Or, wait, no. No. Autobots… when did Decepticons say please? When had Deadlock ever said… From behind, the human saw Bumblebee, no Deadlock, no Bumblebee reaching out to them again. Past images flashed of Bumblebee reaching out to grab them, taking them away from the battlefield, no, away from their home on Earth? What was true anymore?! They grabbed their head as if that would help clear things. Not clearly watching where they were going, they tripped and rolled to a stop. “What did you do, drop them?” Sunstreaker ran up to help. With a loud clang, he was knocked back by a newcomer behind the human. “Autobot scum,” a familiar voice growled. The human’s spine tingled. Was that fear? But why? The human turned their head to see Deadlock look down and lock his glowing red eyes on them. “(Name), what are you doing out here?” he nearly snarled. He reached down toward them. As he reached, time seemed to slow down as the action sparked a surge of memories. On the battlefield, escaping a broken mech suit and running, doing their best to fight back while attempting to retreat, getting grabbed by Deadlock, the feeling of helplessness as they were carried off. The human’s eyes widened. These memories felt different than the others. This one felt whole and clear- like the others were glitching and foggy by comparison. They may not be sure what the heck was going on, but they knew one thing: Deadlock would not catch them again. They rolled and were on their feet with the speed that only comes from training. More clear memories surfaced: training with Arcee on evasive maneuvers, the Autobot base, the battlefield the day they’d been captured as they’d attempted to dodge Deadlock’s grasp. A wave of resolve filled the human. These memories were true. They clung to them desperately as they dove away from Deadlock’s reach. No sooner had they cleared the Decepticon’s outstretched hand that Bumblebee tackled him. The two tumbled back and Bumblebee kept his hits coming, trying to prevent Deadlock from being able to draw his weapons. The human nearly lept as Sunstreaker approached, crouching down to their level. The only thing that kept them from running was the fact that they were fighting against Deadlock. That was enough to hesitantly side with them for the moment. “(Name), it’s okay, we’re going to get you out of here.” Sunstreaker glanced up at his fellow yellow Autobot, now struggling to keep Deadlock occupied. He activated his comm. “Prime, we found them! We’ve got company though. Requesting backup.” Before he could end the transmission, Deadlock had managed to throw Bumblebee off of him. The minibot hit and rolled, leaving scrapes of paint and scratches in the floor behind him. As Deadlock reached to pull his guns, Sunstreaker blasted him in the shoulder. The con toppled back, crashing against the wall and dropping one of his blasters. Sunstreaker jumped up, pulling his arm for a punch. Before it could connect however, Deadlock’s hands shot out and stopped the oncoming attack. Sunstreaker cried out as Deadlock squeezed the Autobot’s fist in his larger hand and rose to his feet slowly. Sunstreaker threw a punch with his other hand, which connected with Deadlock’s face and caused him to stumble. With a terrifying growl, the larger con pulled Sunstreaker back with him, caught their fall with a sweep of his legs, and jolted forward to crash his helm into Sunstreaker’s face. Before the injured Autobot could hit the ground, the human had scampered to Deadlock’s fallen weapon. The gun was nearly as large as they were, but they were able to heft it up enough to get their arms around it. They put a hand on the trigger, and putting their whole weight into it, were able to lean it back enough to aim it at Deadlock. The smug smile melted off the Decepticon’s face as he noticed his rival’s actions. “(Name), put it down, you’re confused and afraid, it’s okay, I’m here for you now. You’re safe.” “Am I?” The human shouted back. Their voice sounded so raspy and not nearly as steady as they had hoped. “Then why do I have these memories? You attacked Earth! You attacked the Autobots! You attacked me! I remember fighting you in a mech suit.” Deadlock growled and his ruby optics flashed to the Autobots who were only just starting to stir on the ground. “They messed with your mind. Put that weapon down and I can get you help. We can fix this and you can be happy again.” The human readjusted their slipping grip on the weapon. “No! This started before they came. You did this, I don’t know how, but now I have double memories that tell two completely different stories. But you,” the human took a deep breath to steady themselves. They were shaking now. It was a struggle to keep the gun up and pointed at the menacing con in front of them. “You, I remember you. I have memories of fighting you that are clearer than the rest. I remember you destroying my mech suit and capturing me. You brought me here against my will. I don’t know what you did to me, but I’m leaving with the Autobots!” Deadlock’s optics narrowed. “What makes you think they want you back? How can you be sure they’re not just here to terminate you? Think of what you’ve done, what information you’ve spilled? How much Autobot energon do you think we’ve spilled because of you?” Deadlock smiled as the human’s eyes widened. Their hold on his weapon began to slip once more. He lowered his voice, “I told you, you are a Decepticon now. Like it or not, you belong here, with me.” The human’s eyes watered, and they blinked hard, trying to remove the extra fluids. Deadlock smirked. He had them. He would always have them. They could fight, and as amusing as their intrepid spirit was, he would always best his precious little rival. Thundering footsteps from down the corridor interrupted Deadlock’s triumphal thoughts. A large, red, and blue shape ran into view. “(Name!)” Optimus yelled, taking stock of the scene he was coming into. The human stared at him. Once again, memories flashed: meeting the Autobot leader on Earth, asking, begging him to allow them to join the fight, seeing the worried but proud look in those blue optics when they first powered up their new mech suit. Like before, these memories seemed sharp and clear. They brought a surge of emotions and comfort to the human’s entire body. Optimus was here and they’d be okay now. Deadlock snarled and reached for his other gun still holstered over his shoulder. Before he could draw and shoot, the human took advantage of his distraction and pulled the trigger. Their aim, as it were while trying to hold the too-large-for-them weapon, was not great, but it did hit. Deadlock stumbled and clutched his leg where he’d been shot. He turned back to the human, optics as angry as fire. With the remaining strength they had left, the human pulled the trigger again. The shot went awry this time, but Deadlock flinched at it nonetheless. As he pulled back his arm to swipe at the human, Optimus plowed into him, sending him tumbling into the wall. Having spent the last bit of their strength, the human fell to the ground, Deadlock’s gun pinning them awkwardly, but only for a moment. Optimus, as carefully as he could, removed the weapon and scooped the exhausted human in his arms. Behind him, Ironhide, Arcee, and Jazz ran up, weapons drawn and ready. Ironhide kept his cannons pointed at the unmoving Deadlock while Arcee and Jazz went to help Sunstreaker and Bumblebee who were struggling to rise now. “Up ya get my man,” Jazz helped Sunstreaker to his feet and pulled his arm over his shoulder to give support, “you’re brother’s never gonna let me hear the end of it if I don’t getcha back to base in one piece. You too Bob.” The insecticon who had been trapped under the fallen Sunstreaker, chirped and whirred weakly. Bumblebee, who was now being supported by Arcee, looked around and asked weakly, “(Name)? Are, are they alright?” Optimus looked down at the human cradled carefully in his arms. They gave a weak smile through their tears. It was about all they could manage right now as they were struggling to keep themselves from just shutting down mentally. The double memories had taken a toll on their mind. They still just wanted time to think, to figure all this out. There were wounds from this that would need to be healed. For now, though, they knew they could trust Optimus. They could feel that deep down, more than any memory, false or true, could say otherwise. Optimus nodded to his bots and opened his commlink, “Autobots, fall back. Ratchet, prepare to open a ground bridge at the rendezvous point.” The Autobots retreat, joy in their sparks. Arcee and Bumblebee look on with smiles as they retrace their steps down the corridors of the Decepticon base. They had their human “sibling” back! Ironhide led the way, canons at the ready as they went. Jazz soon joined him after Sunstreaker insisted that he could walk fine by himself and would cover the rear. No Decepticons snuck up on their back, and between Jazz and Ironhide, the cons they came across were quickly dispatched. They made it back to the rendezvous point with the other Autobots. The human at this point was barely hanging on to consciousness and didn’t hear Optimus comm Ratchet to open the ground bridge, but they did see the familiar blue and green swirling lights. As the Autobots retreated through the bridge, they looked up at Optimus. He noticed their attention and looked down concernedly at them. There were still tears in their eyes, though they were from relief now more than anything. “You came for me.” Something about the tone they said it in, tore at Optimus’ spark. Their shock and pitiful hopefulness spoke volumes about what psychological treatment they’d been dealt while captive. It was going to be a lot of time and effort to heal. Optimus looked around at his Autobots around him. They kept shooting worried looks to the human in his arms. He knew each and every one of them loved the human greatly, each in their own way, and would be supportive as they healed. The human, whom he viewed as his own child, was in good hands now. “Of course, (Name), we’re your family. We’ll always be here for you.” The human looked like they might break into tears but instead smiled softly before they finally slipped peacefully into a much-needed sleep.

[trekwiz]

Get to Know You

@theboyinacorner tagged me to do this, so be sure to check out his blog, too!

Favourite colour?

Green is my main favorite. I also really like blues. I think I look best in black and reds, though.

Currently reading?

Tumblr. If you meant books, that's not something I enjoy.

Last Song?

I'm just going to highlight my little pet project playlist, because I've been listening to it non-stop for the last two weeks. It's only 3 hours of music, so I don't feel so bad counting it as one last song.

It's all music where the narrator or characters are gay. Not innuendo; completely, overtly gay. It's generally equivalent to the hetero bullshit I'd have been listening to anyway, and it's relatively fast paced. It's fun "radio music."

Last Movie?

The Jurassic Games. It wasn't very good. But... Ryan Merriman.

Last Series?

My boyfriend and I have been watching Golden Girls and M*A*S*H.

Sweet, savoury or spicy?

Yes, please.

Craving?

A very long sabbatical.

Tea or coffee?

If I had to choose one, I'd say coffee is worse. But both are pretty disgusting.

Currently working on?

It's related to the playlist I shared. I've been pretty angry over the years that the amount of gay media is pitifully bad. I'm tired of getting scraps in videogames, and being token side characters on TV. The good content is generally not in the genres I enjoy. Even music is difficult to find gay content that's escapist fantasy.

If I'm trying to have fun, I don't really want media that's going to remind me of what I'm struggling through. Even the rare happy ending isn't satisfying; I haven't engaged in a fantasy, I've just watched someone else survive the same depressing life I've lived. It's not enjoyable to me. If I want gay trauma, I can just stroll down memory lane.

I got into my career, video production, in hopes of changing that media landscape. Of bringing gay characters to the screen and one day getting content solely comprised of gay characters.

It's been exhausting. I didn't have any luck in that regard, and had some painful experiences on the way. Ended up getting involved with indie film, and found it's just too expensive and exhausting to have any kind of impact without burning myself out. It was overwhelming.

I realized it's actually (relatively, compared to indie film) somewhat affordable to commission music. My salary isn't going to allow it to happen often, but it's a thing I can do to bring the media I want into the world.

I commissioned my first song a couple weeks ago; I was only able to find 3 gay sea shanties (I'm using the term broadly, it's not a true shanty), so that's where I decided to start. I had to hire a hetero musician and songwriter--I used the resources available to me, though I'd really like to build up an LGBT network I can go to for these commissions in the future--but I had final approval on the instrumentation and lyrics, to guarantee it met my needs.

My commission included commercial and distribution rights, too. I separately commissioned a logo, and some cover art--the art, at least, is from a very talented gay artist friend of mine. When the cover art is complete, I'll be distributing the song on Spotify and other music stores, in hopes of offsetting (minimally, I imagine) the costs of future commissions.

The experience, so far, has been one of the most enjoyable ways of bringing about my creative vision. I feel like I don't have to be good at every little thing to get the content I want. People are providing what I'm asking for to my specs--I'm not being told no by decision-makers anymore, because I am the decision-maker. Not because I climbed my way up, but just because I said so.

I can get quality, without having to prove that I'm perfect and capable of doing it myself. I can just ask for the things I want and get them--no business case, no argument, no proof of concept to show it's worthwhile. It's a shortcut I don't have at my job.

And since I'm doing it for me as a side project, I don't have to worry about the things that currently prevent this kind of media from existing. There is no record label telling me to appeal to a wider audience--I'm an amateur jumping into DIY distribution. As an amateur, I don't have to worry that gay lyrics will end my music career--I don't have a music career to end.

I don't have to worry about appealing to a manager. I don't have to worry about having my ideas tweaked by a senior member of the team to make it less "me". I don't even have to worry about not having an audience--because I'm going to keep commissioning this kind of content for me, even if no one's going to stream it for royalties.

I'm saying fuck it, and bringing the content I want, to life.

[friendofthecrows]

Tw: major discussion of eating disorders

As a recovered anorexic I feel like I need to say something

(Heads up this is going to be a really long post)

New years is coming up, and there was a post circulating recently about how there's going to be weight-loss stuff everywhere and reminding people to please try and ignore it.

On the flip side, perhaps some of you are wondering if this year you don't want to be one of the people falling for all those posts and tricks.

But you may be scared. You may think about how they say if you starve yourself, it will permanently damage your metabolism and then when you start eating normally again you'll become obese. I know I've heard this plenty of times from people trying to use fear to keep people from starving themselves.

But this MYTH is dangerous. I, personally, was scared to try and recover for years, for this reason. I thought that after doing so much damage to my body, now I HAD to keep starving myself.

Because while not caring or worrying too much about your weight is part of recovering, that takes time. It's really difficult to get to that point. You don't start at it. Generally, in my experience, where the urge to recover generally starts is either out of sheer self-preservation (and this one usually takes a push from outside forces; people will starve themselves to death, you get to see that if you spend years on ana Tumblr becoming friends with these people.) Or, with better odds, just not wanting to live like this anymore. It's stressful and exhausting, and that's ignoring everything it does to your body. Losing your period, hair falling out, hunger pains, shakiness, being dizzy, passing out, your heart beating to fast or irregular, being scared that this is when your heart will just stop every time that happens, but probably more than any of these physical effects just how exhausting it is to live like that. Worrying about how much you really ate, checking calories, checking again, rituals, remember to...(over and over again), excuses for not eating, brushing your teeth, the shame after eating, brushing your teeth again, keeping it secret, excuses, heavy clothes for the doctors office, turning down sweets, partner worrying about you, friends worrying about you, excuses, no one noticing and the weight of wishing someone would just see and help you weighing heavy on your chest, excuses.

So I recovered (big simplification of a long and arduous process). And here's the thing:

I didn't gain weight.

ANYTHING having to do with metabolism or diets, or bodies in general, is highly individual. EATING MORE HELPED MY METABOLISM RECOVER. I'm 5'8" and my hw during the Ana Years TM was 125 lbs, and my lw, during all of that time, was 112 lbs, but that only happened for a total of like 5 days. During recovery, my weight fluctuated a lot at first, but I've been drifting comfortably between 113 and 115 for the past what, 7 months? I did dip down to 109 on one occasion, so I upped my protein intake and quickly gained a couple pounds back.

And this was a big comfort that helped me commit to the other aspects of recovery. As soon as I realized that recovery =/= obesity, I didn't have to be scared anymore. I could gradually start thinking less about what I ate, and worrying less about what I weighed, and eventually I was even able to start looking at mirrors again and actually see me, how I really looked, rather than just seeing the epitome of every way I didn't match the thinspo that's been burned into my eyes since the age of 14. And being able to see me, and going "yeah I look pretty good."

It was a big journey to get there, and it started with realizing I didn't need to be scared. Because anorexia is a disorder driven by fear.

When you start eating what your body needs, your body will naturally go more towards a healthy weight for you. Your body will start to heal from all the damage done to it, as we evolved to do.

It's okay to be scared at first, it's a big scary thing to make such a change. But you aren't trapped in that life forever, and I hope you recover.

It's hard, but nothing is as hard as living with anorexia, you are more than strong enough to do this ♡

[zertzertzhang]

Stand and Deliver: My Life Turned Upside Down

A/N: This is my first time writing on Tumblr, so please bear with me! I am usually active on FFNet and AO3, but since this fandom is basically nonexistent except for here, I thought maybe I could post my works for this movie here. The story is a fanfic based on the 1988 movie ‘Stand and Deliver’ starring Edward James Olmos, and taking a deeper look into the lives of the impoverished students in East LA.

Eventual Angel/OC, and warnings of racial slurs with some physical violence.

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Chapter One: Hellhole

The divorce shattered the Yang family to pieces. Vianne was no stranger to her mother’s scorn for her father, even at a young age. There were countless nights of screaming from Mrs. Yang, coupled with the frustrated curses her father threw in return. At one point, she was sure she heard plates crashing against the walls, but by the time she pumped up the courage to go check the next day, everything had been neatly restored. It was like the fight never took place.

Vianne was not stupid; the traces of her parent’s clashing were found in their silence. It was the harsh clatter of silverware against the bowls during dinner which reminded her that despite the calm nature of the family evenings, rage was just seconds from spilling onto the streets. Their house had just enough bearings to keep authorities from pounding the door on a weekly basis.

There wasn’t much left to solidify the hate between the spouses of the Yang household. By the time Vianne’s father suggested giving her a sibling to help bring her mother back, even she knew that it was a futile attempt to play house a little longer.

But to Vianne’s dismay, her mother agreed. Within months, blue paint littered around the spare bedroom in a massive heap, threatening to swallow the couple whole. Vianne didn’t react much when she realized a brother was coming her way, the increased shouting from Mrs. Yang frightened her as the due date neared. Her father would grumble incessantly about his wife’s mood swings and how that was what men got for marrying.  

All of that was lost to Vianne; she was too young to comprehend full sentences, much less understand the hidden meaning behind her father’s statement. Maybe her brother would make her mother happy for once. She could envision her father playing with her in the fields as her mother and her brother sat on picnic mats to the side. They would be laughing just like how it used to be. Vianne wouldn’t have to stay awake, pressing her ears against the doors as more kitchenwares were broken. There would finally be peace...

Her mother’s eyes held the warmth of motherhood for no longer than a few seconds before the cold hollow overtook them again.

Peace never came. What happened in its stead was her brother screeching from his crib, all the while as her parents shrieked at one another over changing diapers. It made Vianne’s head split with thunderous agony. She never wanted to yell this badly, to make them just hug each other for once and stop talking. But such thoughts happened in her mind only. And before she knew it, they were back to throwing pots against the wall.

That lasted however long she remembered. Then came the papers, and she soon found herself holding baby Jack in her arms as her aunt ushered her into a stranger’s car. They said they would be taking care of them for a while. It dawned on Vianne that this was her first time meeting her mother’s family. There was no such thing as a happy reunion in this household.

She didn’t get to see her father after that, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to anyway. Not when the last thing she saw him doing was spitting onto her mother’s face as he tried to stop her from stepping out the door. No one knew that Vianne hid under the covers to cry herself to sleep once she settled in her new home.

And thus, Mrs. Yang became Ms. Lin once more. But for legal reasons, Vianne and Jack’s surname stayed. The minor details flew over her head; Vianne didn’t put much care on the subject. In the long run, the privilege to listen to the crickets chirp at night was enough to keep her satisfied.

That’s how things went for a while, with the emotional charge from her mother coming down for once in a long time. It wasn’t a surprise when Ms. Lin began going out all dolled up and pretty. The scent of her Saint Laurent eau de parfum clung to her skin as she whisked past the older Vianne. The girl felt a twist in her gut; she didn’t want to smell the hints of cologne her mother brought back after every weekend. However, she kept her mouth shut.

Ms. Lin didn’t hold back on her monetary needs. Thank god her salary as a lawyer cushioned their lifestyle. Despite being a single parent, her income had left a spacious room for extra spending. A shopping trip once a month was guaranteed, and that was when Vianne saw her mother at her very best. Talkative and cheery, Ms. Lin wasted no time in purchasing the latest trench-coats from Burberry as she gushed over how cute it looked on Vianne.

Something about her giggling mother put her at ease. The punching of the credit card’s number sent a rush of high in her blood, which only increased with Ms. Lin’s blabbering praise of how beautiful she looked in the mirror. She was well-fed and well-clothed; Vianne figured that there had to be a trade off somewhere. Not everything could be given, so she happily accepted the allowance. It was the closest she’d ever get to having her mother smother her in a crushing hug.

School was another topic. No doubt she was expected to do well in it; Vianne was sure her college expenses would be covered as well once she got to it. So she put the worry on that to the side as well. Her social life at school was decent, with her own clique of Asian Americans making up most of her friend group. It was genuinely a decent life for her, and for a moment, she thought this was going to be her forever.

Until it was news to her that her current school was going to be a thing of the past. Ms. Lin had become engaged to one of her former clients. Vianne was near her senior year of high school when her mother broke the news to her.

“Scott has a family of his own,” Ms. Lin explained. “His children are having a difficult time accepting us.”

Vianne lost her appetite and tossed her dinner down the dump. Her brain refused to tell her how to react, so her first response was denial. She wasn’t interested in a second dad or a second family, this was her happy medium. Besides, she still had Jack, so there wasn’t any long-term loneliness. Why was her mother complicating things?! What the hell?

“I don’t see how it’s our problem.” She tried to keep her voice cool, but the hint of frustration leaked nonetheless.

Her mother looked almost ashamed. Almost. “I’ll be moving in with Scott next week, Vianne. It’s to help his children get used to the new family members.”

The pause after the statement didn’t help the rising anxiety within Vianne. Her fingers clenched around the fork, digging the metal utensil into her soft skin so much that it stung. There was a catch to that announcement, she could feel it.

“What about me?” she asked. “What about Jack?”

Ms. Lin sucked in a breath, drumming her fingers on the mahogany table in a frenzy. And from experience, that only meant bad news. “Scott lives in the Bay Area. It’s too far away from Napa for me to come visit constantly if you stay. So I’ve decided to have you move back with your father.”

The world came undone from below and swallowed Vianne whole. Her mind was a blank sheet of paper, with no idea how to respond. It had been a decade of little to no contact with Mr. Yang, and the sudden contact with him was not going to lead to a happy talk over a cup of coffee. This was fucking ridiculous.

“You said you’d never let him see us again.” Her retort sounded irrelevant at worst, and petty at best. Not that this was going to change her mother’s engagement.

And sure enough, it wasn’t. Ms. Lin gave an exasperated sigh and pinched her nose. The shake of her head reminded Vianne of the way she would scold her when she was a child.

“Your father is doing better now. He’s…different,” her mother tried. “He’s simply not living in the best places out there. But that’s ok! You won’t stay there after graduation, and after you go to college, you’ll be coming back to Scott and me over breaks.”

Vianne could hear the blood in her ears bubbling like an overboiled teapot. “I don’t even know Scott that well, mom! How am I supposed to be his new family after you settle in?!”

The matriarch rolled her eyes at the scene, clearly not taking her daughter’s response well. “It’s a work in progress. I’ll make sure to bring them to you every once in a while to let them get comfortable. That’s why I’m moving in first.”

Her reasoning failed to get past Vianne’s anger, spurring her on. “So you’re just gonna dump us in LA with dad so you can live your comfy life?!”

That comment seemed to be the final nail onto the coffin, as Ms. Lin’s frown turned to a scowl in seconds. “I’m not dumping you anywhere, Vianne. It’s only going to be a year, and your allowance is staying the same! So stop being dramatic.”

Her mother’s cold gaze bore into her mind, freezing her in her tracks. It would serve both of them better if she conceded right there. Once her mother came to a decision, she was like an ox in the middle of a fight. There was no arguing out of this situation. The friends she had and the memories she made in Napa were now pipedreams wrapped up in a dusky alley. Her failure to even voice her opinions squeezed her lungs tight with perturbation.

The familiar pounding headache cursed her forehead, making her wince. Vianne had the sudden urge to smash plates just like her mother had done before. But she didn’t need a grounding on top of everything else, so she settled with pulling her lips back into a painful grin.

“What's the name of the school?” She expected her mother to answer that at least. Donning an air of nonchalance, Vianne tried to appear as unbothered as she could. The trembling of her hands were the only markers of betrayal. If Ms. Lin noticed her plight, then she took no interest in it. Her mother reached for a brown packet and tore it open.

A stack of papers slid out of the package, with the name ‘J.A. Garfield High School’ printed in bold fonts in the front page. It was her transfer letter.

Ms. Lin took a sip of her red wine before she continued her trail of thought. “I’ve given them your transcripts and coursework history already. You’ll be admitted in the second semester.”

“You’re really sending me to the ghetto.” Vianne felt the veins in her head pop. Quickly scouring through the papers, she came across her schedule. There was no AP Biology on the list, and there was definitely no AP BC Calculus on it either. In their places was a section marked as ‘Teaching Assistant’. And that was enough to send her ticking with rage.

“What’s the meaning of this?!” This time, she didn’t bother to hide her fury. “Why did they drop my classes?!”

Slamming the files down so hard that the china rattled, the young woman seethed as she stared her mother down. Ms. Lin wasn’t having any of it either, her fingers gripping the wine glass had turned pale with the increased pressure.

“The school doesn’t have AP courses, Vianne. They’re offering full credits for your two AP classes as compensation.”

The words that came out of her mother’s mouth stunned Vianne into silence. Graduation credits were worth nothing to her in college, this had to be some sick joke.

“What about my AP tests next year?” she hammered. “How am I supposed to take the tests without taking the classes?!” Her complaints were like flies buzzing around an agitated human. Ms. Lin simply waved them off without a second glance, as if her worries were nothing but unnecessary trivialities in life.

“You’re smart, sweetheart. You can study for them by yourself.” Her mother threw out the response like it was the obvious solution to her problem. “There’ll be more than enough spare time in your hands to bury yourself in books.”

Vianne quirked a brow. “Why?”

Ms. Lin actually smiled. But behind it were the vestiges of an arrogant smirk threatening to show itself to the surface. “Their coursework is basically non-existent. The catalogs are dated, and the materials are easy enough to be mistaken for a middle schooler’s level. You’ll have no trouble boosting your GPA up and acing your tests.”

If pride was a thing in her family, then it was going out the window. Vianne couldn’t believe her ears, nor could she stomach the sight of the letters. At this level, she might as well turn herself to a thirteen-year-old and go back to primary school. All her hard work was about to go up in flames because of that ghetto school. Hot tears rimmed along her eyes, sending her into a vortex of despair once more.

There wasn’t enough time to say goodbye to her friends; Kimberly’s birthday was in two weeks, and the whole group had a surprise beach trip planned out. And that was just the tip of the iceberg. Mountains of projects she had been dedicated to simply poofed into air. Her hands clenched at the sides, doing their best to contain the urge to hit something.

The shifting of bodies alerted her of her mother’s departure from the living room; Ms. Lin was already up the stairs by the time Vianne shook herself back to reality. She looked over to the stove and was struck by the time it displayed on the counter. It was way too late into the early mornings.

“Your flights depart in two days.” The voice of her mother was drifting away into the distance. Their hollow vibrations from the hall sent her stomach dropping to the floor. “You should start packing soon, Vianne.”

That was the end of the conversation. It was made clear with the slam of Ms. Lin’s bedroom door, rattling its hinges. Neither of them were in the state to argue, and she knew it. Standing alone by the dining table, Vianne sniffled. Her nose was unbearably stuffy in addition to the increasing sting in her eyes.

She didn’t catch a wink of sleep that night.

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

LAX was the definition of a madhouse. People shouted in all kinds of languages, deafening her ears and making Jack whimper on her side. Vianne held her brother close as she shoved their way through the gates of their section. The crowded mass on top of her migraine was slowly inching her towards a mental breakdown. After hauling off the last of her luggages from baggage claim, she ushered Jack to the main exit of the airport.

She knew she hadn't seen her father’s face in years, and the dreadful thought of not recognizing their only ticket out settled within her gut. Panic palpated in her heart as they came out of the building, with the sea of people not helping in the slightest.

Mr. Yang was next to unrecognizable when Vianne saw the massive sign with her name blaring in red. He looked different, much different than before. But then again, her seven-year-old perspective wasn’t all that trustworthy either. The face of her father hit her like a cold splash of water, and she found herself failing to greet him with the simplest ‘hello’. She merely stared at the balding man,  unable to tear her eyes away from the beerbelly and narrowed eyes. Her father was a stranger to her, and it was then she realized that Jack had never even met their father.

Her brother scooted away from Mr. Yang when the man approached them, looking up to her with his teary gaze. Jack looked like he wanted to burst into a wailing fit. It was going to be a long ride back.

Heavy silence filled the car throughout the ride to her new home. Mr. Yang asked about her health and her school life, repeating the same questions he wrote to her weeks ago. Vianne kept the answers simple and precise, nodding and smiling to make it seem like she was engaged.

Jack, on the other hand, fidgeted endlessly in his seat in the back, looking anywhere but the front of the driver’s seat. The introduction between father and son was awkward to say the least. Vianne was just happy that they were now on their way to get the year over with. She clutched the phonebook in her pockets, memorizing all her friends’ numbers. It took her mind off things, if that was a positive note.

There could never be enough distractions for her, especially now that the three of them were stuck in the worst possible position. As if whatever deity in the heavens wanted to lay more unto the cruel joke, Vianne shook from her revere and noticed the selection of houses they were approaching.

Rundown and abandoned were the least of her worries. The neighborhood was like the cardboard cutout from a horror magazine. Desecrated with graffitis and empty beer cans, the streets were littered with grime and dust. It was obvious the town duster wasn’t a frequent worker there. And was that a person sitting on the roof of a car?!

Vianne’s eyes bulged as she squinted at the flailing man on top of a red Chevrolet. Men donned in tall hats paraded the city roads like they owned the place, causing a line of angry drivers honking at the ruckus. The pounding headache intensified at the sight, and she grumbled a string of curses to herself.

“Monterey Park is a lot better,” Mr. Yang spoke out of nowhere. “We’re gonna be away from these dirty shitbags.”

She flinched at the harsh edge of his voice, but didn’t say anything. By the crinkled lines between his brows and the frown on his lips, her father wasn’t in the mood for a good-natured chat. It was better that way, Vianne herself could feel her spirits waning with each mile.

The trio reached a small neighborhood in no time, and to her relief, it looked miles better than the houses she previously saw. The structures still retained the brittle fragility in appearance, but the paintings were even this time. And the lawns appeared to be taken cared of as well. Vianne felt the corners of her lip tug up in a hopeful smile.

But like any other good news, it was crushed to dust as soon as it presented itself. Her father didn’t use his keys to unlock the door. Instead, it swung open on its own accord, revealing the face of a middle-aged woman with frizzy hair and leopard-printed blouse. Vianne’s mind jumped to the worst possible scenario, jumping back a good distance. The young woman stared at the fresh face for what felt like a long time, before the coughing from Mr. Yang pulled her from the staring contest.

“Clara, they’re my children; Vianne and Jack.” Her father’s gruff voice held her to the ground. Gesturing to the women next, he continued to speak. “Vianne, Jack, this is Clara. She’s my girlfriend.”

Despite him being this close to the two women, Mr. Yang was oblivious to the scowl that now stretched across his daughter’s face. Vianne put two and two together and realized why her mother refused to share too much of her father’s living situation. There was no way in hell she would have agreed to come had she knew of this beforehand. Her living arrangements were fucked up to no end, and for a moment, she contemplated ringing her mother on the spot.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Clara didn’t move from her position. She gave the two newcomers a pitying look, but her lips turned up to a smirk. “I’ve heard a lot about y’all.”

Jack stared at Vianne, lips pouting in morbid curiosity. The older sibling sighed and rolled her eyes; she was getting worked up over nothing. They only had to stay here for another year till graduation, so she reckoned she would find a way to grin and bear it.

“There are rules to this household.” Her father wasted no time in listing the regulations under his roof. “You won’t be able to run amok like ya did with your mother here. First, Clara is to be respected at all times.”

Mr. Yang was blind to the seething glare Vianne threw him as she unpacked her bags across the room. It was one thing to be forced to live under these conditions, but it was a totally different thing to be mandated around by a stranger who she detested. A biting remark made its way to her tongue, but was cut short by his rambling speech.

“Curfew is 6 pm sharp. No loitering around the streets after the sun goes down,” he continued. “No boys are allowed, and there will be no parties here.”

No one, and she meant no one, told her when she got to come home. The last time her mother set her a curfew was in middle school. And it was definitely not at that time either. She wasn’t interested in dating anyone from this neighborhood, much less bringing a boy back home. Parties were out of the question, Vianne had already made up her mind that she was going to burrow herself for a year before she dipped.

“I’ll stay out as much as I want.” It was a crisp retort, and she turned up her nose. “My car will be here in a few days. I’ll be fine.”

Mr. Yang’s nose flared at the comment. His eyes darkened, reminding her of the way he used to look at her mother. She didn’t voice it, but the familiar shivers ran down her spine. Avoiding his gazem Vianne took a sudden interest in the rings on her fingers.

“This ain’t Napa County, Vianne.” Her father’s hand shook. “You’ll be down in the dirt in no time if you don’t adapt to the people here.”

She ignored his statement and pulled out her luggage of clothes. Everyone knew of the nature of the ghetto people there. That was the reason she brought her car. Whatever it was, Vianne wasn’t going to touch them with a ten-foot pole.

 “Whatever,” she mumbled. Sensing her displeasure in the conversation, Mr. Yang grumbled something about women, before throwing a stack of notebooks onto her bed. Vianne glanced at them, but made no attempt to retrieve the papers.

“These are the course intros for tomorrow.” Her father was opening a can of beer as he eyed her. “You and Jack are waking up at 7. No negotiations.”

“Sure, sure.” There was no reason to get into a fight, and she thought it was wise to choose her battles. A curt nod was all she gave him, before she slipped past her father to go find Jack. There was still time to brood over her state of affairs.

Time always flew when you were either panicking or on cloud nine. That would be the second night of the week where she didn’t get to sleep. Her eyes trailed to the calendar; today was her first day of school.

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A/N: Sorry for the slow start! Juicy drama picks up in the next chapter! Reviews, criticism, and comments are welcome :3

And here's a shoutout to @classic80sand90smovieloves2 for inspiring and helping me write this out!

[phoenotopia]

2020 May Update

I hope you're all staying safe and healthy during this time of Coronavirus!

We continue towards the finish line, slowly, but surely. Coronavirus did throw a few wrenches in our plans. Our talks with a publisher about a possible sponsored appearance at an upcoming event stalled.

But that was always just a possibility. We have a backup plan. If we didn't win a sponsor, we were just going to pay our own way to a convention. That's what most indies do! Anyway, that's canceled too. It doesn't seem like there'll be any conventions to showcase in the near future...

Nevertheless, we did move forward in other areas. We've got the press materials ready as well as the game's official launch site up. You can view it in its prelaunch state at this link. NOTE, It is in a "prelaunch" state, so some media links are being withheld until reveal time. But there are a bunch of new pictures and artwork you can look at.

You might notice the link reads "phoenotopia.wordpress.com". The plan is to direct "phoenotopia.com" to it in the near future. That means if you wanted to reach this tumblr specifically, you'll have to visit it at its tumblr link, "phoenotopia.tumblr.com" (which, I just noticed doesn't work... huh). Anyway, since this is a dev blog, I'll talk a little bit about the journey of creating the website.

SQUARESPACE vs WIX vs WORDPRESS

I actually tried 3 different services (in the above order), before I settled on wordpress. I did a bunch of researching, and most reviews seemed to point at WIX >= SQUARESPACE >>> WORDPRESS.

I went with Squarespace first, since it was recommended a bunch on some youtube videos I saw (guess marketing works). Even though it didn't win outright in the reviews, my impression of it was "less quantity, but more quality." I tried it and found it serviceable. It was kinda sluggish, with some not so intuitive areas. I had to ask for help a few times for some things that would seem simple ("how do I change the BG and font color and of the music player?", etc).

That was last year, when I *thought* I was near launch and would need a press site soon. One year later (present day), it was time to create a press site again, and since my website with Squarespace expired (I had only signed up for a trial period), it was a good opportunity to try Wix, especially since Pirate had lots of praise for Wix.

My impression of Wix was that it was... too distracting. After I chose a theme, in the editor view I felt bombarded by menus. Everywhere you move the mouse, things kept lighting and popping up. And it was slow. So I guess it was sorta like Squarespace, but maybe even a little worse?

(Easy ways to preview the website from phones and tablets was one of wordpress’s neat features)

What prompted me to try Wordpress was one of their slogans "35% of the web uses WordPress". If it's good enough for 35% of websites, it's good enough for me! I ended up liking it most of all. It's definitely less featured, which suited me, since I'm not trying to create something too fancy either. Unlike the other website builders which emphasize free-form, wordpress was more rigid. I couldn't drag and drop an element just anywhere - I found that comforting in a "I can't screw this up" sorta way. The most important thing was that it was fast. Loading the editor view to Wix took 11 seconds vs 4 seconds with Wordpress. And the speed advantage of wordpress extends across every action. Similarly, when Chrome launched 10+ years ago, it was also less featured vs Firefox, but it became my choice browser. I guess speed is something I value highly.

Anyway, my experience is from a drag/drop perspective with minimal coding. This is also NOT a paid advertisement. However, if wordpress would like to send some money my way, I would not be opposed... (call me!)

Achievements, Bugfixes, and Cleanup

Lots of small tasks and polish was done over the past 2 months. I finally fixed the time tracking bug - important because the Speed Run achievement depended on it. I also finally finished implementing all the technical stuff for the achievements. There was a bug where some enemies would stack up too many light sources, causing them to appear too bright and drain system resources. That's now also fixed. Lots of other small ones that don't bear mentioning.

A neat trivia about the game is that there's a final super hard achievement for those seeking to prove their mastery over the game. The player has to beat the game having never picked up a heart or energy upgrade. When playing under this constraint, some enemies can even kill the player in one hit! In the game's most current iteration, even I failed to achieve it, so I'm definitely going to have to go in and tweak things a little more.

Age Ratings

I went and got the game's age rating. I did a little research on this - it's quite fascinating. ESRB would be the age ratings board for the United States (where I'm based). But if you were in Europe, you'd get a PEGI rating. Then there's ACB for Australia and so forth. So if you wanted to launch a game globally, you'd have to deal with this process over and over, and each country rates things a little differently... that's a lot of work!

Enter IARC (International Age Rating Coalition), which aimed to simplify the process by being the one standard that you apply to, and from which you could then get the equivalent rating for all participating countries. IARC is an entirely automated process - probably necessary due to the boom of digital titles across all platforms, particularly mobile.

IARC is great for me, because they relaxed the standards for getting a rating. From my understanding, the process used to be more difficult. And you'd have to pay ESRB a hefty chunk to get a rating, but with IARC, it's totally free! So long as it's for digital and it's used only on licensed sites and store fronts. If I wanted to launch the game physically, I'd have to deal with ESRB on an individual basis again.

Without further ado, here's Phoenotopia's IARC ratings:

Fascinating... Phoenotopia is rated "Mature" in Australia... but for "Horror". Which seems suspect. The horror elements are rare (remember Dreadlands?). But when I was answering their questionnaire, they provided a video example of what they considered "horror", and it was pretty mild. About as mild as my game, so I checked that box. It is what it is...

We also got a "Teen" rating for ESRB for reasons of Fantasy Violence and "Mild Blood". This one is kinda iffy. In the game, if you hit a giant bug, it spits out a few drops of green blood. Does that really count as blood? Ocarina of time skirted by with an E rating 2 decades ago, and it let a dude spit out green blood. However, since IIARC is an automated process, I didn't see any place to dispute. But also, I wouldn't have disputed it anyway. A "T" rating is cooler than an "E" rating!

I'd like to mention this is not a paid advertisement for IARC. However, if IARC would like to send some money my way, I would not be opposed... (call me!)

Submission

I expect to polish the game for about 2 (maybe 3) more weeks. After which, I'll be submitting the game to the console "authority". From my understanding, I'll then have to wait a month while they "inspect" the title. After which, I'm then cleared to have an official launch date - which I'll probably set to be 1 month after getting approval.

So the plan is to have a very short marketing campaign. The reveal trailer will basically drop 1 month before release. And we're going to sprint to the finish line. Some marketing campaigns are 6 months to a couple years. Ours will be one month... Let's hope it works.

Wrench

That's what the plan looks like right now, but there is a possible upcoming wrench in this whole thing. I recently learned that my version of Unity is too old. Games running on old Unity versions are not automatically accepted - so I'll have to apply for an exemption. If the exemption gets rejected, we can't launch without upgrading, which will require *significant* work...

This came as a surprise to me. When I started dabbling in games development a decade ago, the most common advice I found online was "Make Games, not Game Engines." I interpreted this to mean lock in your technologies. There's always going to be a new and shinier bell or whistle, but if you keep chasing it, you're not going to work on the actual content of the game. That's probably what kept me to releasing the original game on Flash. That was a game I was making as a hobby while working a full-time job. By the time I quit my job to go full-time indie dev, Flash had long been a dead technology. But I remembered "do you want to build game engines or games?" And so I pressed forward.

So that mindset could potentially backfire here. If PC was the lead SKU, we wouldn't have these issues since PC is more relaxed as a platform. Consoles, as I'm now learning, have an ever forward shifting window of technologies. If we get rejected for the exemption, there's a couple ways we can play it. One, we go through the pain of upgrading which will take months... Two, we pivot and make PC the lead SKU again, but have to handle porting that plus its specific features, which will also take months...

So why is updating such a big issue? Unity has changed drastically over the years. When I started, it was a lot less 2D friendly. They didn't have an official 2D tilemap solution, so you had to build your own or buy a 3rd party library from their asset store. I used 2DTK for tilemaps - 2DTK is now entirely deprecated. Similarly, I had to search for and purchase a good asset to display crisp text - since you couldn't even do that in Unity back then (heh). That's the story for a lot of old Unity stuff. Think of it as a first mover's "disadvantage".

Hopefully it won't come to that, since I'm pretty spent as a developer. I've been ready for this to be over, and I know many of you feel the same. Hopefully soon! As usual, I'll update in 2 months at the latest (end of June). An update might come earlier if we have some good news to share sooner. Until then!

Fanart and Cosplay

This first picture comes from roccy_chair and shows Gail basked in light. I like how her pose and equipment together form an "X". That's a neat hidden symmetry. The way she floats also kinda reminds me of Crono's "Shining" spell. Perhaps Gail should have the ability to cast spells? Hmmm...

Cody G returns with a new art depicting the 2 Moonstone enthusiasts. I like Fran's starry-eyed expression here. That's true love on display. I also like how the Moonstones are depicted as flat and coin-shaped. Very unique! Also note Gail makes an appearance in the back :D

Thanks to M1shaaa for this cosplay of Gail! There's a lot to like here! The vibrant pink hair. The costume with 3 stitches across the vest. The pose with slingshot, accurate to Gail's depiction in the box art. Amazingly, this might also be the very *first* cosplay of Gail! Will and Pirate both alerted me about it excitedly since they were pretty stoked. We joked that we crossed the final milestone in terms of fandom.

[segersgia]

Looking back: Part 2 - Death Guard - Infantry

8th edition needed a big baddie for the new Primaris Marines to combat, and Mortarion was very eager to oblige in this front. The Death Guard are by far my favourite Heretic Astartes faction just by aesthetic alone. Nurgle is my #1 Chaos God. I like his focus on pestilence and decay and the fact he is technically a rather benign god. 

I love the Death Guard because of their doctrines and their design. They make use of chemical warfare and just slowly advance like a poisonous cloud towards their foes.

So it was very exciting to see a full army being made out of them.

This army is very difficult to rate and review, because unlike the Space Marine line, every little model in their range is unique in some way. Every little miniature you get for this army has different weapons, helmets, and different armour patterns. This means that one unit will both have ace looking models and models that look like hot filthy garbage (in a bad way).

Let’s begin...

Plague Marines:

The main boys of the Death Guard army are definitely the much-loved Plague Marines. These are your mainline infantry boys and make up the majority of the Death Guard Army. They are a result of what happens when a Chaos Space Marine starts worshiping Nurgle a little too much. They begin transforming into these bloated and disease ridden humps of rotten flesh and rusted armour. The Plague Marines themselves love this. They feel no pain and see every little malady as another gift from their god. 

The first Plague Marines came into existence during the Horus Heresy. When the Death Guard attempted to join the Siege of Terra, their fleet got lost in the Warp and the legion became infected with Nurgle’s Rot and the Destroyer Plague. Their Primarch Mortarion, in an attempt to save his legion from the torture and suffering, sold his soul and his legion to Nurgle. 

Plague Marines slowly advance on their enemies, bolters firing without mercy. Some carry rusted weapons that are infused with Nurgle’s Rot. One small cut and your infected.  When injured, they won’t even flinch, since they absolutely feel no pain whatsoever.  

Plague Marines are a truly decisive bunch of miniatures. You have four different kits to choose from (three, since Dark Imperium has been discontinued) and each of them has some very good models and some very bad ones. 

I do think that they are very busy and in some parts overdesigned. Some models have like three different Plaguebearers fused to their armour for example. I do like their armour though and the ones wearing the Mark 2 helmet are by far the best looking of the bunch. 

I would say that the best box out of the four would be the basic Multi-kit, since they are the most consistent in quality. However, all of my favourites strangely come from the discontinued Dark Imperium Box Set. 

7/10

Poxwalkers:

The Walking Pox is a very infectious disease that is just awful to have. Your organs start failing one by one and you eventually turn into a zombie, fully conscious of your actions yet without any control over your body.

Poxwalkers shamble like undead in search of flesh to consume. They have these long horns sprouting out of their heads and all of them constantly smile like they’ve been injected with Joker laughing gas. The worst part about them is that their groans and roars can infect those who hear it with the Walking Pox disease. 

The walking Pox spreads auditory. It can spread through the vibrations of sound. 

I love these models. There is nothing really bad to say about them. They completely succeed at what they are supposed to convey and resemble. Some of them hint at their former professions, like the one dressed as a doctor. Some of them also wear clothing similar to that the Genestealer Hybrids, so they stay very consistent. They look creepy and disgusting and I love it.

10/10

Blightlord Terminators:

These fellas are even more diseased than their normal Plague Marine counterparts. Their steps corrode and rust the ground beneath them and even being touched by them could spell your very painful death.

Blightlord Terminators excel at ship-to-ship-combat and boarding actions against enemy spaceships. Since they are Terminators, they can teleport aboard enemy vessels, and they use this tactic to cause mayhem and to spread the gift of Nurgle. 

The Blightlords are surprisingly less busy than I would’ve expected and it makes them a better looking unit for it. These models found a way better balance between clean and diseased. I think that some of their weapons do look a bit oversized. Overall though, the designers aced this unit.

My favourite one out of the bunch is the Insectoid Blightlord with the extra limbs. That is just clever design and a fun way to visualize Nurgle’s corruption.

8/10

Deathshroud:

In the olden days of the Great Crusade and the Horus Heresy, the Deathshroud were the personal bodyguards of Mortarion. They were his version of an Honour Guard and were chosen out of the sole survivors from destroyed Space Marine squads. They completely forsook their identity, never taking of their masks and conducting a vow of silence. They are considered at that point killed in action. 

They still largely form Mortarion’s personal guard even after his ascension to Daemon Prince. However, Mortarion also sends them to check up on those he favours. They fight alongside Chaos Lords and the like and act like judges. If a Chaos Lord does well, the Deathshroud leave in peace, but if the Chaos Lord failed in the eyes of Mortarion, then he gets executed by these bodyguards. 

Deathshroud carry Power-scythes called Manreapers, which are rumoured to be dipped in the filth of Nurgle’s Throne itself. They also come equipped with custom Hand Flamers that shoot chemical ammunition. 

The Deathshroud have a very good design that is very similar to the Blightlords. There is however some waste in potential. These are Mortarion’s most trusted warriors and they just look like a hooded version of the Blightlords. I kind of wished the designers took some inspiration from this artwork and made them have more ornate features.

It would certainly distinguish them more from their brethren better. 

I also take some offence that in the images, one of them has no helmet on, which kind of ruins the point of a voiceless and faceless warrior. You do have the option of giving the squad leader a helmeted head, so this is kind of a none-issue. 

7/10

Plague Marine Icon Bearer

The Icon bearers of Nurgle carry an Icon of Despair. This banner creates an aura of hopelessness around the area, and the thoughts of surrounding foes become filled with the idea of inevitable death. It basically turns enemies into nihilists who’ve become depressed.

What makes me sad about this unit is that there is no mention of these guys anywhere on the different wiki’s, which is kind of a bummer since he looks like a solid Plague Marine. Yes, it is just a Plague Marine with a Chaos Icon, but he should at least be mentioned somewhere. Don’t be mean to him. He is a good looking Plague Marine. 

I do wish that the Icon he carried didn’t have the weird helmet pressed in it. The fly motive is nice though.

8/10 

———————–

So all in all, outside of some outliers, the Death Guard infantry is a very solid line of miniatures that is very varied in appearance. You could apply the “Goldilocks Effect” to it; some are too busy, some are not busy enough, and some are just just right.

Next up, I’m going to tackle the Craftworld Aeldari Faction, which will be a short one and will probably come a little sooner than normal. After that, I’ll be looking at the Vanguard Primaris infantry units. I want to spread them out somewhat so that everything stays interesting, but I also want to get the Primaris overviewed as quickly as possible. 

Thank you for reading my stuff so far. It is fun to overview the design and lore of these different factions. It also is a learning experience for me. For example; Tumblr has a Max-10 image cap per post and this means that this series will probably list a lot longer than I’d imagine. Still, it will be a fun ride for me.

‘Till next time.

previous posts: Primaris Mainline Infantry

[chronicillschronicpills]

so hey, i just found ur blog and tbh im really looking for any advice i can get on dealing with chronic pain and fatigue? i dont mean to be a bother sorry! im just slipping into hopelessness with some people and even doctors not taking me seriously. i have done hours and hours of research and i think my symptoms may line up with sjogren's? it's just so hard for someone to look at my symptoms (even though they have been worsening since october 2019) since absolutely nothing shows up in my tests.

Hey!

This is not a bother at all. Also sorry if this is a late reply, my Tumblr never notifies me when I get messages so I have to manually check! 

So to start off with, I know exactly how you feel. I have been there. It is truly horrible and I am sorry you have to deal with this. There is a massive problem with doctors not taking young people, especially women, seriously when it comes to pain and fatigue. It’s always ‘stress’ or ‘depression’ or ‘in your head’ and it’s just really infuriating. It’s a terrible place to be in. 

I think this is a really important post. Its going to be LONG. 

I’m going to first address the issues with doctors not taking you seriously. 

It took me 7 years to get a diagnosis. This is NOT unusual. In fact, I’m almost positive that the average diagnosis time period for someone with lupus is 6 years. My first piece of advice is SELF ADVOCATE. This sounds easier than it is and it takes a lot of practice. I used to just burst into tears if I was trying to explain anything to a doctor. It is easier to self-advocate when you are calm and are clear about what you are going to say. To help with that, I suggest KEEPING A JOURNAL of your symptoms and have all your medical records in order. Make it in depth. Before an appointment, WRITE DOWN WHAT YOU ARE GOING TO TALK ABOUT. This way, you won’t forget anything. I like to reverse in my head how it is going to go. You really have to TAKE CONTROL of the appointment. You are allowed to demand certain things. I had to demand a referral to a rheumatologist when one of my shit GP’s refused to. He ended up giving me one, and on my first appointment with the rheumatologist, I was diagnosed and put on medication. It is important to DO RESEARCH but not too much. Don’t let the doctors know that you’ve done too much or they will think you’re a hypochondriac or something, maybe hurt their ego, who knows. You need to have a GOOD GP. If you don’t like your current GP, find a new one. Do research on good GP’s in your area. Ask your friends and family about theirs. Also, the best indicator for a doctor to know where you are at in my experience is saying MY QUALITY OF LIFE IS POOR. Describing your symptoms in-depth and how they affect your day to day functioning is important. Lastly, I always think you should BRING SOMEONE WITH YOU. Bring someone you trust, someone who knows about your condition. This is useful because they can back up what you say, they are there for support, and a doctor is less likely to treat you like shit with someone else present. You should also brief the person who is coming with you about what you would like them to do in the appointment. Do you want them to just stay quiet, or would you like them to sometimes talk or want them to take control of the appointment? 

My advice for chronic pain

Pain killers (it make seem obvious, but they really help). This is a touchy subject for a lot of people, as there are obvious problems with long term pain killer use, but they are great for PRN. There is a possibility a doctor will not prescribe you with them though. 

NSAID’s (Nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory drugs) can be helpful for pain

Tricyclic antidepressants are used to treat chronic pain

Topical treatments; I use tiger balm patches. These are the ones I use: https://www.amazon.com/Tiger-Balm-Plaster-Warm-Patches/dp/B07Q6WN9ZM. They help tremendously for me. I sometimes used tiger balm cream. Other good ones are Icy Hot vanishing gel and bengay. 

Pillows: I used 12 pillows to sleep with. I know it a lot. But it works really well for me. Experiment with pillows; between your knees, under your arm, behind your back, under your hip, under your legs, etc. I literally sleep on a bed of pillows. 

Reduce stress. High stress= more pain

Join support groups; I am on several FaceBook pages that talk about the issues that I have. This blog on Tumblr has been incredibly helpful. It’s good to have people who understand what you’re going through. 

I cannot exercise, but some people find it useful (i never did) 

Some people find meditation helpful (i do not)

Massages help but obviously, that’s not always accessible, they are expensive etc. 

My advice for chronic fatigue

Medications; depending on your diagnosis, some medications can help with chronic fatigue. The medicine that helps with my chronic fatigue is Plaquenil which is often used to treat fatigue-related with Sjogren’s. There are other medications that can help with the quality of sleep such as benzodiazepines and tricyclic antidepressants. 

Do not do too much activity (that has helped me, but for others moving and doing exercise and movement can help) 

Have a routine 

If you study, make sure you tell all your teachers and lecturers beforehand that you have a health issue that may impair your ability to come to class all the time or hand in assignments on time. In my experience, they have always been really helpful and understanding. 

I also studied a lot from home, using online resources. I also took fewer papers at university to make it more manageable for me.  

Look after yourself, make sure you eat good foods. A lot of people try different diets but they haven’t helped me personally but have been beneficial to a lot of other people. Definitely talk to your doctor about this though. 

Give yourself a break, do not be too hard on yourself if you cant do the things that others are doing 

Some doctors consider stimulant medication but I have not tried this

Lastly! Sjogren’s!

I know a bit about Sjogren’s because it’s related to the disease that I have. It is an autoimmune disorder. If you think you have Sjogren’s then you need to ask your GP to do blood tests associated with Sjogren’s such as rheumatoid factor, ANA, antibodies (anti-Ro (SS-A) and anti-La (SS-B) antibodies). Ask for a referral to a rheumatologist. SELF ADVOCATE. Do not stop until you find your answer. Also, get routine bloods. It is common for them to change over time. I

If any of my followers have Sjorgens and have any advice, please comment!

I hope this helped, I wish I could come up with more advice on how to deal with chronic pain and fatigue, but I know it is really hard. If any of my followers made it this far and have any tips, please add to this post and reblog it so that more people can see and add to it.

EDIT TO ORIGINAL POST

This information was supplied by a tumblr user called @graciecatfamilyband who actually has Sjorgens. They said:

 Blood work and other tests CANNOT rule Sjogren’s OUT. This makes it very difficult to diagnose 

30% of Sjogren’s patients will have negative blood work.Other tests may also not be sufficient, depending on where you are in your disease progress

Doctors are often undereducated about Sjogren’s and don’t see it as as serious as it is

Many patients will have neuro symptoms as well as other significant symptoms like fatigue before their lip biopsy focal score is 1 (which is considered “positive” for Sjogren’s).

https://www.sjogrensadvocate.com/ is a great resource for people who think they might have this disease. It also cites research articles you can show your doctor if you need to

They also offered to help out anyone who want to reach out to them if they have questions or need advice about Sjorgens and also, with diagnosis’s.

Keep in touch, let me know how it goes. Don’t be afraid to reach out and dm me.

Love Aston 

[scatteredcloud]

Top Surgery: What Really Happens pt3 -Recovery

I’m on day 4 of recovery, and it’s been a lot of trial and error as to what works and what doesn’t. Like I said in part 1 and part 2, there’s no one solution, so try to anticipate what works for you but be ready to adapt if it doesn’t. I was pleasantly surprised to have over prepared because my pain level is quite low, but that seems to be the exception not the rule. A lot of the supplies mentioned here overlaps with what I said in part 1, this guide is about logistics.

Getting Ready - Day Of - Drains

-Plan to be sleeping, a lot. I get pretty down on myself when I sleep in, because it makes me feel like I’m not being productive, but what’s productive in the days after surgery is taking care of yourself.

Don’t expect to be back to normal within a few days. The way my surgeon broke it down was this:

1 week post op you’re back to 50%

2 weeks post op, you’re back to 80%

4 weeks post op, you’re back to full capacity.

This is a generalization of course, but recovery starts slowing down after week 2, which is why it’s so important to rest up during the first few weeks (especially because that’s when you take time off) You also have to get used to sleeping on your back, which I don’t think anyone actually does naturally. Weighted blankets are super nice for this if you have one, since it keeps you from tossing and turning. I have to take sleep meds anyways, but the pain killers they give you also knock you out.

-Speaking of meds... This was probably what I was the least informed on going into surgery.

This is my full list of medications and side effects that I’ve experienced. Asterisks next to what I was prescribed, I’ve linked to the drugs.com site for more information side effects and general info.

*Oxycodone- 5mg: as needed, every 6 hrs (painkiller)

Reminder that these are opiates, and appropriate caution should be taken. These made me particularly sleepy, and constipated. They also mess with your eyes, I have 20/20 vision but for the first time in my life I understood what it was like to be far-sighted.

*Cefadroxil- 500mg: every 12 hrs (antibiotic)

Obviously it’s important to eat in general while recovering, but also, antibiotics are the only mandatory medication and trying to take them on an empty stomach makes you super nauseous.

*Ondansetron- 4 mg: as needed , every 8 hrs (anti-nausea)

This was substituted for Zofran, not entirely sure why but I think it was something about interactions with other drugs.

Generic acetaminophen- 500mg, as needed every 6 hrs (tylenol)

You cannot have Aspirin, or any over the counter NSAID. They thin the blood and promote excessive bleeding. Aspirin, Motrin, Aleve, Ibuprofen, Excedrin, and Advil are all off limits.

Sennosides- 15mg- as needed (laxatives)

In addition to constipation from other side effects, it’s also just harder in general to get it out because of how sore your muscles will be. There’s no shame in it, it happens to the best of us.

Diphenhydramine- 50mg- 1 a day (sleep aid) 

-Altered mobility, what’s up with that? There are going to have to be some life style changes you make to enable getting around your space.

This is my set up:

Laptop, water, trash can, meds and extra supplies all within reach

Extra pillows to support my back

Lamp with a on/off button extension cord. I think it was originally for christmas trees but it’s nice to not have to reach up and turn the knob

Power strip with chargers

I’m sleeping on the couch because it’s 1. Closer to the bathroom and 2. My actual bed is a loft which isn’t exactly surgery friendly.

I covered the couch cushion in an extra sheet to make it less scratchy and in case of any leakage (There hasn’t been any though)

The name of the game is accessibility. I’ve been lucky to be able to move around and be up and about, but it’s still better to have everything within arms reach. The only issue I’ve run into with my set up is that sitting up is pretty difficult. Particularly with how wide this couch is, it’s hard to maneuver myself up and out

Also, get used to squatting down to pick things up, instead of leaning over. When you squat, you aren’t engaging your torso at all to reach something, which is ideal here.

Try and stick to chairs that have some sort of back support. I’m used to sitting on stools in my work area and that’s just not sustainable after surgery.

-Hygeine Full stop, you’re going to have to be gross for awhile. This (I suspect) is also why they ask you to go off hormones for awhile before surgery, because I’m definitely a lot less sweaty and gross than I would be otherwise.

You can’t shower until you get your drains out, and the ok from your doctor. This is to reduce the risk of infection and to keep soap out of your sutures. Shower gel is pretty much a no until everything is healed, unless it’s like ultra-sensitive, and unscented.(Double check with your doctor though) My boyfriend came over two days ago to sponge me down and wash my hair. Bar soap works well, because it’s easier to control where the soap goes, and it’s more sustainable. 

Do not try and bathe alone. Period. It’s not worth the trouble or pain, and you run the risk of getting things in your sutures

Washing your hair is going to be a bit of a debacle. If you have longer hair, brushing it regularly will help distribute the natural oils and help prevent them from building up. I personally don’t like dry shampoo, but others swear by it, so worth a shot. I’ve also talked to people who treated themselves to a salon visit, to get their hair professionally washed which also sounds lovely. My boyfriend and I managed with me leaning over the edge of the tub and him pouring water over my head. The important thing is to keep soap from running down to your chest.

For me, washing my face is really important to feeling clean. My skin is naturally oily, and I had to adapt my routine a bit, because my normal method is splashing a lot of water on my face. I’ve been learning to take the more civilized route and using a damp cloth to wash off the cleanser, like probably everyone else was already doing :P

I’ve seen a lot of people recommending wet wipes, to at least pull some of the gross off, and if that works for you go for it. I’ve only used them when I take off my compression vest to get some of the oil off of my chest gently.

-Your new chest Other surgeons wrap their patients up differently, but the only rule for me was not to wash the area, and that I had to have the vest on while I slept. Fingers crossed tumblr doesn’t nerf this one but this is what my situation looks like.

(CW: Stitches If you’re sqeamish, you might want to skip this, I certainly would)

The yellow sponge things are sewn on top of my nipple grafts to keep them in place, and then there are strips of medical tape holding the sutures together. Because they’re sewn to my body, I don’t have to worry about them shifting around, but nudging them even a little bit really hurts. The area on my chest went from super sensitive, to itchy and tender, to itchy and numb, to numb and tender. All of your nerves are either completely fried or severed, so even the most delicate sensations can feel really uncomfortable. My chest wasn’t ever particularly sensitive before surgery, so it’s weird being sensitive (but also not?) now.

When the compression vest is closed, I just have a couple layers of gauze pads on top of the stitches to keep them protected. I don’t really have any bandages, although I’m pretty sure that’s not the standard. The compression helps everything fuse back together correctly and squeezes out the fluids into the drains. (I’m making a post on that soon, I’m waiting to get my drains out first.)

I’ve left my vest unbuckled the past couple days to get some room to breathe, but I kept it closed the first 3 days and that seems to really help with minimizing the drainage. (The less drainage the better)

EDIT: I took my first shower in a week here’s my advice for that

Showers- As relieving as it is, you do still need to take some precautions. My shower is a stall with a fixed shower head, if you have a removable one then you’re in good shape- just get someone to get it down for you first. (No reaching over your head!)

- If your nipple grafts are still healing (which they probably will be if you got them), I highly recommend “transparent dressing covers”. Mine came in the box of extra gauze I got from CVS, but an overlarge water proof bandaid will probably do as well. They’re essentially just cling wrap (saran wrap w/e) for injuries. Theoretically you couple put them over the whole cuts? Imo that’s more trouble than it’s worth, you really can’t feel anything- but do what makes you comfortable.

-As always, different instructions for different procedures etc etc- the goal is to keep soap away from the incisions. Water is ok, but I was trying to avoid that as much as I could too. The good news is that all of the nerves are severed, so the discomfort isn’t as bad as getting a normal cut wet in the shower

- This took some experimenting, but the optimal position for me was back to the wall the dials are on. That way you can lean over (from the waist not the chest!) to get your hair in the water, without risking it dripping onto you. That being said, I have pretty thick, med length hair, so adjust as needed.

- I’ve been trying to switch to bar soap anyways, because it’s more sustainable, but personally it worked well for me. (Definitely make sure you can get a good grip on it though, pain killers can make you clumsy and it’s a bitch to crouch down to get it if it drops) My instructions were specifically to keep shower gel away from the incisions, so I just used bar soap.

- I didn’t do this, but retrospectively, keeping a clean sponge or a wet cloth on hand to get your arm pits would be pretty choice. Since you can’t lift your arms and in trying to keep soap away from your chest, it’s hard to get your under arms damp enough to get soap on, and then harder to rinse out.

- Getting out of the shower, make sure you have towels in easy reach. I’m pretty vigorous trying to dry off, because I hate the feeling of being wet, so I had to consciously slow myself down. Drying your hair goes more or less the same way as washing it, bending from the waist. There’s probably another method (getting someone else to help you ideally lmao) but because your can only really move your fore arms, this is the only thing I’ve been able to find that brings everything within reach.

- If you have a hair dryer, it works wonders for drying off hard-to-reach places. I was having a hard time getting my back fully dry, but pop that baby on and your warm and dry in seconds. 

Please let me know if you have any specific questions, my dms/ask box are always open, and I’m sure I’ve forgotten things.