#pandemics amirite?

[southconfessionpark]

Matt and Trey in the Pandemic two-parter be like: This music fucking sucks, amirite? (*plays the most banger panflute music ever*)

[pictureswithboxes]

Masc? More like mask. Amirite? Stay safe there’s a pandemic

[ashes-in-a-jar]

Hi! I was just wondering, what are your thoughts on episode 100 of The Sheridan Tapes?

You’re the reason I started listening and I always went to read your post after finishing an episode, I’m kinda confused by it honestly.

(Also I only just listened to it today (April 1st) so I was surprised when they mentioned it being April Fool’s Day cause it came out on Friday.

Sorry it took me a bit to respond to this, I have a few thoughts though, not sure if I will manage to sort through them. Mostly good!

First off what a nice thing to have a horror podcast that has a happy ending for most of its characters! They sure went all out with the polycule bit even without Ned lol. I did like how some of the chemistry Rob and Peter had in previous seasons paid off with that ending! Although some elements of it felt like they came out of nowhere? At least not in a way I noticed... Either way good for them!

The April 1st thing was fun timing to end the story! Love that it coincided (kinda) with irl date.

Although the actual date they saved the world was April 1st 2020 which was at the height of the beginning of the pandemic... from the frying pan into the fire amirite? XD

Sam becoming a "documentarian" for Anna's and Maria's podcast was a nice touch, and a jab at the "archivist" trope lol

I find it interesting that he decided to do it and kinda stick to the past? It feels like he hasn't managed to move on like the others, still stuck on maybe one day returning to Allen and the good old days. I am happy that Jerry took him under his wing, I wonder what their relationship is. I found it really touching that he asked Maria and Anna if it's okay to hug them, like he's used to asking permission from living with Sam which was so 🥺🥺🥺

Sam being anxious around a lot of people and then being understanding and accommodating was really touching in general.

I don't know how I feel about the direction Ren took, the whole Source revelation rattled them I would think they would do something about it rather than continue being part of a system that they ended up clashing over... I'm not even sure how ISFA is different from ISPHA? I would have liked to see them working on something fungi related, maybe with Amanita, who is MIA from the finale...

I would like a sequel about Sam going to rescue Ned (of course) and Ren dealing with aliens in space (a story thread that was left unresolved)

And definitely hear some of Rob's antiquing vlog shenanigans xD

Anyway, might have some more thoughts and something more cohesive to say about it all but overall I loved the podcast and enjoyed the ending, it tied up a lot of the story so neatly and managed to do it with minimal casualties and with care for every character

To say I cringed when the singing started in the end would be an understatement but good for them embracing it together xD

[literaticat]

Dear Jen, Do you know why are all the editors are leaving Chronicle? Should authors be wary of subbing there? What is going on??? Thanks

(Jenn, or Jennifer. Thx!)

Yes, there's been a fair amount of churn at Chronicle. I can give you a little timeline, but please know (ESPECIALLY if you are any of the people I'm alluding to!) -- I TRULY LOVE CHRONICLE, I love every editor who was there and is there, I count them among my friends, I have MANY successful and beautiful books with Chronicle, more coming, and I hope to have many more in the future. I am not talking trash or giving any particular "inside scoop" here, this is just an outside perspective that I think/hope is at least relatively accurate and neutral.

So first of all: Many editors leave the publishers they start with at some point, because sometimes, that's how you get a promotion if you are in a rut where you are, and if you are in NYC, you can just apply to another job down the street. This tended to happen LESS often at Chronicle than at most NYC publishers, because pre-pandemic especially, if you live in San Francisco and you want to stay in San Francisco... that's the publisher in San Francisco! So many editors who started there never left the way a NYC editor might. But then the pando happened, and lots of work got remote, and it was less imperative to be tethered to one location. This is where our tale begins.

A couple (few?) years back they lost an editor who had a lot of books. (For a good reason, she got a different job, yay for her). However, they didn't replace her, and all those books got assigned to the remaining editors on top of their pretty full workloads. That's a lot -- but OK, so far so good.

Then there was some kind of upper-management rearrangement or something (way above the editor's pay grade, nothing to do with them) -- but the result is, they lost a couple of key managerial positions and didn't replace them for a while, so there was a power vacuum -- nobody was really in charge or able to hire more people to help.

Meanwhile (at least as far as I can tell), there were too many books and not enough editors, burnout / fatigue / life changes happened to cause a diabolical domino effect where one editor left so the others had EVEN MORE books and burnt out even faster, another left, burnout faster, another one left. So now, very unfortunately, many of the "original" Chronicle editors (by which I mean people that had been there about as long as I've been agenting or longer) are gone.

The good news is, there's a new boss, who seems to know what's what, there are still a couple folks left who have institutional knowledge, and there has been at least one great new hire, with I'm sure more on the horizon.

SO: The metaphorical Good Ship Chronicle hit a storm and sustained some damage, lost a captain and some crew, and was starting to capsize, but now has somebody new at the helm and is in the process of being righted. This is not a process that will or can happen quickly -- but it's happening. The passengers on board are hanging tight. I don't know if new passengers need to be WARY per se -- but I would suspect that the ship wouldn't really WANT to take on a bunch of new passengers until there's some more crew on board and they are sure it is smooth sailing. So, you know. Expect delays. (publishing, amirite?!)

(PS: I don't know too much about boats, but you get the picture!)

(PPS: Do you know the difference between "flotsam" and "jetsam"? THAT, I do know. Flotsam describes debris of a boat -- after a shipwreck, say -- cargo or bits of wood or whatever that are floating around. Jetsam describes things that are deliberately thrown off a boat by sailors when they have to lighten the load because they are in distress and sinking or something. You can remember because "floating = flotsam / jettison = jetsam". That's your fun fact for the day!)

[demonslayedher]

Why do you like Demon Slayer so much?

I---I don't know, Anon, w-why do you like breathing so much?

...because BREATH TECHNIQUE LOOKS WICKED AWESOME AMIRITE!??!!?

UFOTABLE MADE SUCH A FREAKING COOL LOOKING ANIME that both looks and sounds amazing with all that care put into it HOW COULD I NOT LOVE IT!? Such good source material too, ALL HAIL WANI-SENSEI!!!!

Or rather, to more eloquently express myself, I'll answer this in two parts: the "why" and "so much."

Why do I like it?

- Simplicity

It's a classic Good .vs. Evil story, a triumph of working hard and working together. It's Coming of Age and Hero's Journey, all themes that never get old because they're really good themes. KnY isn't even that fresh of a take if you boil it down to this, but it didn't need to reinvent the wheel, it just needed to be a good wheel to keep the story going.

I was grateful it ended when it did, it had a goal to accomplish and everything in the story worked toward that goal. I've fallen away from adventure shounen because I can never stay interested in super long series that get mercilessly extended past their natural life as cash cows. Not to sound like a Swamp Demon here, but this manga got to end while it was still young and beautiful.

The fighting mechanisms are complex enough to be fun to explore, but it's not as complicated as other shounen series, making the barrier to entry lower for first-time anime viewers. That's part of why I think it's been so successful. Plus, even though we get things like Red Blades and Marks later, their existence as ultimate techniques was in place from the start, so they felt believably set up and paid off. They made sense within the world building, even if they had to be dropped on the readers later so as to weekly serialization interesting.

It tackles deep themes, but doesn't overcomplicate them. Muzan being a simple villain and Tanjiro simply being good-hearted created interesting tension just fine, the motivations throughout the cast keep the story nicely driven.

- Depth

Although the story, world, and characters are simple enough for people of all ages and familiarity with anime to enjoy, if you want to scratch deeper than the surface level, the hundreds of thousands of words of meta and cultural background throughout my blog go to show that it's very, very easy to bury yourself deeper in it. In my case I already have years of obsession with Japanese culture to build on, so KnY fit very nicely into my niche. I already love samurai and oni and swords and such so that was already playing to my knowledge, but as a passionate nerd, it's also given me lots and lots of exciting new material to learn more about. But more about that later, suffice to say here that Gotouge is a very, very knowledgeable gator.

- Characters

THEY ARE JUST GOOD AND FUN AND UNIQUE DESIGNS IN THE FIRST PLACE, but also, I don’t feel like I already know these characters from other anime. Many of them defy being typecast, and even the ones that do feel like like other characters in a plethora of anime have such a unique spin to make them stand out in my heart. I'm sure I could be a nerd for plenty of other series, but it takes the right characters to make a fangirl.

Also, my emotions got manipulated excellently; I like Tanjiro and immediately wanted to root for him, but I ha-a-a-ated most of the rest of the cast until I got to spend a teeny-tiny bit more time with them, and then I liked them hopelessly. I got totally strung along and I love it when I can get strung along like this.

Why do I like it so much?

A lot of that comes down to my personal recipe of brain soup and the situation I already felt stuck in by the time I got into KnY, a few months prior to the pandemic. Watching the anime and feeling really into it came as a comfort while I was finding myself in what felt more like a situation than a good career move and feeling frustrated with the second draft of a novel which wasn't working. Then just as I had hoped there might be some improvements to my situation which I was holding out for, the pandemic changed everyone's plans.

Simply put, the isolation and stress in those early stages of the pandemic both gave me lots of time to explore and write fanfic and made me rely a lot on the joy I got out of KnY, and then I got so practiced at making KnY fanwork that this blog became like my bonsai I could cultivate in peace while most other things in life have continued to feel out of control. And dang it, I'm good at cultivating this bonsai of a blog! It's gratifying to feel good at something when real life is making you feel otherwise!

Hopefully the upcoming new start in a new city and in a new job that'll hopefully make me feel good at things again and provide some smidge more control over my life will make me less reliant on KnY for such a big share of my happy hormones, but...

THE HYPE IS PART OF WHAT I LOVE

IT IS

SO MUCH FUN BEING OBSESSED WITH A MAINSTREAM PHENOMENON

THERE ARE THINGS THAT MAKE ME HAPPY EVERYWHERE

I SAY THESE CHARACTER NAMES AND EVERYONE KNOWS WHO I'M TALKING ABOUT AND THIS HAS NEVER HAPPENED TO ME

IT STAYS ON MY BRAIN BECAUSE IT IS EVERYWHERE

AND THIS IS SO COOL

[gizdathemxel]

my hot take on purity culture is that nobody knows how to be normal about sex :3

(tw for sex, puritanism, pedophila (?) [not explicit tbh], and shitty discourse)

call me a puriteen n all but like has it not bothered you to ever think of why so many young people are sex negative (definitely not a culture and internet that puts us in sexual situations when we are far too young and far too uncomfortable) ? has it ever bothered u to ask why so many young people are not performing critical media analysis (definitely not a lackluster education and culture that dissuades us from thinking deeper about the media we read) ? when I was a minor I could not tell you how many people i knew (me included) struggled with porn addiction bc we were exposed to pornography when we were FAR too young. young people are taught to be ashamed of and fearful of sex while simultaneously having their sex lives being put on blast 24/7 for others to jack off to, and you expect us to NOT act out about it?

like yes, you are absolutely right that sex (esp queer sex) is a totally normal thing and that you should be allowed to write wtv you want to write and share it among other like-minded people! yes you’re absolutely right that sex is a huge part of queer history that has been historically wiped away and that needs to be preserved !! i will not argue that puritans won’t jump at any chance to censor and shame and discriminate against anyone they deem a deviant!!! that is true!!

but you cannot expect a bunch of young people, still educating themselves, still figuring out their sexual identity in a world that shames and sexualizes them, still figuring out how to truly interact w media to have already know that. you don’t have to educate them but like there’s no need to be like “erm…minors amirite 😒” when a block will suffice

it’s so ridiculously revisionist to act like the internet is ‘sanitized’ or is perfectly filtered out so that minors stay in minor spaces and adults stay in adult spaces. there are people posting porn on tiktok, on twitter, on tumblr, on every fucking platform one can think of (including youtube). it is truly not that hard to encounter adult material even when you’re a minor. people will gladly send you porn or similarly graphic stuff even if ur a minor. you literally couldn’t have looked up mlp on GOOGLE back in the late 2000s/2010s and not be shown mlp porn. there’s an infamous porn video of mlaatr where the main (16yo) character gets raped by rock creatures, and it looks JUST like the show’s art style. so it’s very likely that there’s a generation of people whose very 1st sexual exposure was watching their fave characters be placed in inappropriate sexual content when they were children. so yay learning about sex thru bastardization!!

and combine that with young people who have never actually been taught how to explore their sexuality and instead learned “if ur even horny for a minute you will go to hell and die” ur going to get ill-adjusted young people who do not know wtf theyre doing. u are going to get people who are going to bump their heads a fucking lot.

ill be honest and admit that when I was a kid I was definitely within the puriteen camp bc gw!! I was a queer kid who just started grasping their sexuality in the middle of the pandemic and all I had was unrestricted access to the internet, that gave everything to me at 110%

I am not asking that every space be wiped squeaky clean just in case that a minor might be present, but I am asking to extend a little grace. Drop educational sources a so called puriteen should refer to!! Show how that kind of puritanical thinking can do actual harm to marginalized people!! Don’t get in internet spays w kids!! Just block and move on!!

(also i will forever be giggling at that one comic abt a minor entering an “adult” space and then getting mad at the adults there and calling them pedos just for the ‘adult’ space the op was talking about to be sophia the 1st nsfw fanfic. i literally cant)

[noneedtofearorhope]

lately the passage of time has been kinda getting to me, in a ‘were does it all go’ sorta sense, i guess. 2018 being 5 years ago just feels surreal, moreso than usual lately. and ive mostly tacked it to the pandemic’s time distoring effects, but besides the pandemic one of the grand overarching and obvious differences between then and now is the change of president. and i think one of the things thats making it feel so weird is that today frankly feels a bit like were still just under trump.

afterall, “nothing will fundamentally change”, amirite?

[pixiecaps]

I just gotta reminisce about 2021 boo Bering like. Fuck man. Ranboo streams were such a source of comfort when I was in literally the worst time of my life and helped get me out of them, just this funky little man digging a straight line for like 2 hours. the stream of him and tubbo watching tgwdlm is still a video I watch occasionally it’s just like. Man. What a fucking era amirite

oh same definitely i know it’s typical to look back and cringe at old obsessions and phases but with that era its so near and dear to my heart especially i mean the pandemic was a crazy time and those streams were a huge source of comfort for so many people. i literally was in a car crash and the only thing i found comfort in was ranboos streams so i enjoy reminiscing on everything and just remembering it fondly. it was a chaotic time to be alive!!! whenever i look through all stuff ive saved it feels like dusting up and looking through an old photo album 😭 so much has changed since then

[sugarhillpark]

oh my god i'm so exxcited for that creatures of the night fic wtf it sounds AMAZING

i only read a tiny bit of the snippet because i'm a very no-spoilers kind of person when it comes to anything i think i'll enjoy so i read the very beginning of it and had to stop because i was like "i'm gonna be obsessed with this when its posted in full"

ANYWAYS this is all just to say LET ME KNOW AS SOON AS U POST THAT SHIT!!

Ah so you read the part that I realised had a typo in it after I got this ask. Nice, nice, that's hot. *staring into camera with twitching eye* lol

Seriously though thank you so much for your caps lock enthusiasm about this! Vampires and incubi and roommates amirite? Trapped in responsible pandemic confinement with only each other to be slutty with and pine over. Frank's running commentary is ruining Ray's cartoons. Gerard won't stop online shopping. What is Mikey even doing in his room. You understand. I want more of whatever that niche is so I am trying to put it out there. God knows when I'll actually have my shit together enough to start posting on ao3 down the track, but this ask made me look forward to it and wanna try harder! <3 I'll hit you up at that time for sure. 😊

[skinnyscottishbloke]

🖤💚 for the spotify and wrapped game

Funsie!!!

🖤: A song that has strong 2020 vibes (interpret that any way you like)

We all just wanted to scream and drive off somewhere to escape the pandemic amirite?

💚: A song that gets you

👆🏻👆🏻👆🏻 me every summer driving on the highway with the sunroof down, blasting my favorite tunes ��

Send me a symbol from this list and I’ll tell you what Spotify Wrapped song it corresponds with!!

[aquietwhyme]

Working out was hard, so I adjusted my fitness goals; who needs to climb stairs when you can just live on the first floor amirite?

-same energy as "the pandemic is over"

this moderna commercial just went "the pandemic may be over, but covid 19 isnt going anywhere. covid is still among the top 5 leading causes of death"... wow... its almost like the pandemic isnt over.

[amazonclimber]

You do understand that there’s a difference between not having any ability to stop a genocidal politician from winning an election, and actively throwing your support behind someone who’s funding a genocide, right? Because that logic is exactly why we’re in this situation in the first place. I need you to understand that Genocide Joe doesn’t care how much opposition he faces, because he genuinely believes it doesn’t matter. His constituents will scream and kick and vote for him anyway, because better a blue genocide than a red one, amirite?

I was on your side last election. I held my nose and voted for Biden because anything was better than Trump. And what I got was a President who kept funding the border wall, declared the pandemic over for political reasons, funded a genocide, and denounced the right to protest it. And I’m done. I’m done throwing my support behind slaughtering infants with blue bombs instead of red ones.

You have the right to say Genocide isn’t a deal-breaker for you. But you don’t get to then stand aside and pretend you’re not complicit, and pretend my principles are why Biden’s going to lose this election.

[foolishfalls]

I've been kind of just chucking my feelings out into many a void today and I guess I'll do it here. Who knows where I'm likely to get a response??

below the cut i'll be discussing repeat injuries, chronic pain, how my mental health interacts with/contributes to them, and my growing rage and exasperation with the american healthcare system.

I feel like for much of my life I have been grappling with nebulous burgeoning health problems that were rarely serious enough for me to really seek out a doctor, plus, my parents are both notoriously bad at seeing doctors and taking care of themselves too, so living with them into adulthood definitely didn't help. (It's tough as hell being a PDA autistic up against all these very harsh hierarchical systems so full of barriers and demands amirite?)

given the autism with a pretty heavy PDA slant, making and keeping appointments has been a harrowing process for me for my whole entire life, as long as I can remember. It doesn't help that I am also terrible at advocating for myself and have been consistently dismissed by doctors over stuff that I experience... I've just kind of learned to take it lying down which is not a good habit but i get easily exasperated trying to explain myself to doctors. i struggle a ton with even talking to people i see as holding authority over me (i attribute this to ten years of catholic school kind of breaking me mentally and emotionally. if you have been to a religious or catholic school perhaps you have an understanding of this kind of mistreatment)

anyway, i just feel like the pandemic and the ongoing collapse of the healthcare system has just really brought this to a head for me recently. In the last 6 years or so, i've injured both of my ankles several times, rolls and sprains. honestly, the first few times, i was being dumb and not paying attention (i went through a terrible binge drinking period during my 21st year, hadn't yet discovered that i literally cannot wear most shoes besides flat-soled sneakers) but even when I tried to be careful after one or two bad sprains that went unchecked, mostly, I would end up hurting myself. Two of the subsequent times I hurt myself while moving between apartments (I've always lived in walk-ups and have usually moved everything myself with little help aside from friends) and bc of pretty bad cracks on sidewalks (big city infrastructure is total garbage, big surprise!)

like, as my repeated injuries got worse, my capacity for physical activity has too, and I already struggled for years as a kid and teen to develop a decent exercise/activity routine. I think I also have low muscle tone and really slow recovery time due to autism or some co-morbid condition (such as EDS or something. i have weird, weak, clicky joints, but i'm not really typically hypermobile?)

anyway, every time i went in for an x-ray or to see a doctor, i basically got told just to RICE and take care of it at home, so I didn't seek further help. the one time i did was last year, and it took a lot of advocating and was quite hard for me, and then it took months of waiting to even get an appointment with an ortho. This is after 5-6 sprains on my right ankle, and 2 on my left. when i sprained my left ankle the last time, i landed quite hard on my right knee and definitely hurt that too, because it still clicks and acts up.

of course, last august, my ortho appt finally approaches, and i get fucking covid literally the day before. i was so sick and tired i just no-showed and honestly forgot about it. if I miss an appointment and dont reschedule immediately, the likelihood that I will do that is very low. once again, PDA is a bitch.

but, at least since then I haven't actually injured my ankle. However, who knows what the effects of covid were on my body, my joints, who tf knows?? we know it causes and exacerbates all kind of conditions in people. I barely have been able to get doctors to take me seriously about the stuff I'm chronically experiencing, so even bringing up long-covid has felt kind of scary and pointless, tbh.

Fast forward to april of this year. after working in office jobs and sitting for two years straight, which caused me a ton of awful burnout, i end up working part-time at a cafe. while I'm working there, i injure/strain my hip and low back while slipping on a wet floor. this pain keeps me in bed consistently for about 3 weeks and I go to see my doctor about it. he diagnoses me with sciatic pain because it seems to be running and radiating down from my leg and hip. (mind you this is my right hip, which is attached to the knee i've hurt maybe twice, and the ankle i've injured 5-6 times!)

Up until then, I had been receiving some PT at my previous job to help stabilize and strengthen my hips, which my PT determined as the main cause for my ankle injuries. my hips shake when i walk and tend to cause a lot of instability. I made some progress, but I was receiving PT at my old job, and my insurance changed when I left it, so i was uninsured for like three months in the beginning of this year while trying to get new coverage. my hip pain was bad for about a month, after seeing my doctor, i got x-rays and they came back clean but the pain wasn't fully subsiding, so he writes me referrals for PT and pain management.

Because of my shit association with PT due to my old job, and the fact that the pain finally began to subside after the x rays came back (I kind of thought, oh, maybe it was lingering mostly due to my stress, guess im good) I dont make a PT appointment right away. I look into one place i'm referred to and it turns out they dont take my insurance which is bullshit. Then, I go to my last option, the hospital system I see my PCP out of. It's basically the lowest quality medical care you can access with medicaid which is what i currently have, and due to my experience working in a high-end PT office i know what the difference will be. this mental block kind of keeps me thinking it will be pointless so i took a while to make an appointment, trying to do exercises at home for now since i had a baseline from my old job.

While all this is happening, as my hip pain is subsiding, i get a weird lump/bump where my heel meets my right ankle, my bad ankle. it has been this way since about the end of May, now, and it has been the source of some of the most disarming, weird, confusing pain I've ever experienced in my life.

I also didn't talk yet about how realizing I'm autistic helped me make sense of my weird pain tolerance. on one hand, i've always been notably sensitive to even the slightest pain. would sob and sob over the smallest things as a kid. i think due to the reactions of adults around me, i gradually learned to dissociate in order to bury my pain. so, i feel like i both experience pain very strongly and intensely, and at times it can be so debilitating and distracting that i can focus on little else and it almost causes me brain fog and fatigue, while at other times, it is kind of distant and i tend to dissociate from it.

with this new pain in my heel, there's definitely some nerve shit involved, i think... i get twitches/spasms sometimes, numbness, tingling, sharp pain, dull pain. and it's seemingly unpredictable. i wear compression socks or a sleeve almost every single day because it's all that helps. it's past the point of icing helping it much because it's not swollen.

basically every time i have seen a doctor about my pain leading up to now, I have brought up the possibility of some underlying cause, but i always get dismissed. told I'm digging too deep or thinking too hard and just stressing myself out, despite the fact that I've always been clumsy and injury prone and had coordination issues. I guess bc those coordination issues haven't been well documented, and i am not officially diagnosed with autism or anything that could support my claims, i just don't get taken seriously, despite my experience being quite abnormal from what i understand when talking to others!!!

idk where I'm even going with this. today i was at a PT appointment for my hip and was on the verge of tears the whole time. I have to go back to my primary doctor in order for them to even begin attending to my heel despite that being the worst pain, and despite the fact that my hip/knee/heel/sciatica are all definitely related. I'm assuming this is because of insurance bullshit, i know it's pretty basic procedure, but it's exhausting that the american healthcare system is set up this way. it's really hard when you're autistic also and struggle with making and keeping appointments. it doesn't help that i've been dismissed by so many doctors that i just get intense anxiety about even having to go back again.

i'm also looking for a new PCP anyway because i don't like that mine doesn't take me very seriously and i am also transitioning and very scared/a bit paranoid about facing any transphobia or disclosing that fact to him if we have to run any blood tests. so maybe I'll have a better experience elsewhere, but this heel stuff has gone on for so long that i just have to bite the bullet and go back to the same place if it will be quicker to do so anyway.

and like, all procedural/red tape/insurance bullshit aside, bottom of the barrel PT treatment here is like. so dismal. once again maybe it's just bc i have the point of comparison from my old job, but i feel like the treatment is really just. so lackluster, doctors are seeing multiple patients at once, you're rushed through your visit, you don't have time to ask questions. the whole time i've been there no one has so much as taken a closer look at my heel. i know i'm there for my hip and you have to say that on paper for insurance, but like, damn, not even just a quick check??

I am afraid it's because I'm habitually downplaying the pain to cope and because i'm terrified of doctors. so maybe it's my fault.

still, the system is downright hostile to people who struggle with that stuff.

i don't have much else to say. just wanted to dump this somewhere and see if anyone else can understand or empathize with my experience. i don't talk about this super openly or readily because I don't even feel like i can call it chronic pain sometimes despite this being a several month long problem and really an issue that is about five years old, despite it being inconsistent... mostly because i just don't have the affirmation of a medical diagnosis. i have considered getting a cane/mobility aid very thoroughly recently because i know it would help me (and maybe even force doctors to take me seriously) but there's a part of me that feels like i can't or shouldn't. like i'm not valid enough for that, or i can function without it, but i know that's dismissive and so not the right way to think about mobility aids

i mean, it doesn't help that my dad has been limping and had chronic pain for years and has one and still refuses to use it... the internalized ableism runs deep. it's fucked. i'm trying hard to undo it but it's hard when you're already just hard on yourself.

anyway, just sorely needed to get this off my chest. thanks for reading if you do.

EDIT: i also wanted to say,, if you have gone through anything similar, just know you're not alone! so if you want to share your experience or talk about it with me pls know my asks and dms are open.

[empressxmachina]

by Imperial-Radiance (me)

I swear that it’s officially nighttime now – I can’t see the moon, but it’s dark as hell outside – and this guy is still here. I can’t say the same for everyone else, though. The amount of presumably innocent souls that's gone down that shaft is, for lack of a better word, repulsive. The worst part of it is how many are sending themselves down there on their own, just out of fear of the unknown.

How does this guy not know how intimidating he is? Or, does he, and he’s aroused by this? No, I probably shouldn’t say that. He genuinely might not know. No, wait, why am I playing devil’s advocate here?

He’s a monster.

He just amputated someone – a child – like… like… like nothing I’ve seen before. Meanwhile, all these guys are practically unfazed, that is if ‘unfazed’ applies to ‘being a sheep so that you don’t die’. They look fine. Look fine. That’s obviously not the case.

When it comes down to it, each small society on each Lilliputian, Laputan island is one of three sets of people.

One, there’s the group not taking any chances. They’re all stowed away in their homes, shelters, and other places in which they can hide. Am I a part of that? No. I’m accepting his arrival as a reality, no matter how much I don’t want to.

Two, you have those are just going on as normally as they can, doing their best to forget he’s there. How exactly do you ignore a beast that’s anywhere from thirty-six feet to thousands to you? I don’t know. So, I’m not going to try.

But, the last leg of the trifecta consists of those bold enough to address him directly. No, wait, is it bold? Is any of this abnormal? These divides were around for every other scientist that’s ever been in here. I guess it’s just strange to me that they’re still here while he’s still here, especially those helping him do checks and stuff.

From the grandest scheme of things, he’s following the usual scientist routine. Checking the infrastructure of the tiny towns. Collecting the bins of bio-wastes to presumably be tested if not just immediately thrown out. Retrieving small samples of even smaller products people are making or growing for themselves. Yadda, yadda, yadda. He’s getting nothing from me, though.

I’d rather wallow in my own trash than give myself up. Hell, I’m already doing that. But, looking closer, there’s something… off, and I mean more than just his get-up.

This computerized compartment in the floor is one thing – him dropping or flinging all his ‘finds’ and samples in there. Them including people too damn sick or broken to be cared for by any of us, er, these guys, is another. But what’s really grinding me is how he doesn’t seem… very human for a human, and I don’t think I’d be surprised if he was truly a robot.

For one, why the hell is he so stiff? I get petite persons and products or whatever should require precision. But if you’re plucking up people and places like they’re toys and throwing them to be sent who-knows-where, then why bother being precise!? On top of that, all his skin’s covered, and any sort of emotion from him is too difficult to decipher. Who’s to say he’s not just cold from a hidden metal exoskeleton?

His lining the streets (or entire neighborhoods if referring to the tiniest here) with a finger like a sand signature and then grinding whatever sticks to the latex to dust makes me lurch. May all unfortunate spawn thrusted here be left untouched from this hell, whether in this basement somewhere or stuck in a triage or something.

It’s my job—was my job to save lives, bring them in, too, when I could. I couldn’t bear the thought of— No. No. Not doing it.

Anyway, all I can say is that if he’s looking for me, then he’s doing a damn good job in hiding that. So many times, my heart has stopped from him coming over to this table, currently pausing in front of it, gazing around at structures and onlookers around me. My entire vision encapsulated with a sickly aqua sky or sea so wide is surely anxiety-inducing. The shallow breaths thankfully blocked by his mask and the loud ruffles from that almost-as-loud blue only punched the immensity of his girth harder. 

If we had locked eyes at any point, then aside from me being found in this broccoli floret of a tree in this flowerbed of a ‘park’, I… I… I don’t know what might’ve become of me. I just know I’m too old for this shit.

Too old. Too tired. Too frustrated. I shouldn’t be here, damn it.

Alas, he’s no longer taking up space in front of my hovel. He’s closed the floor hatch and distanced himself from all of us, not even halfway past the door anymore. Though, I don’t think he’s leaving.

He’s just standing there, posed inquisitively like a statue in an art museum somewhere. Is he pondering his next move on us – on me?

It’s almost been a full minute now, and—No, wait, he’s breaking his stupor now, scanning the room like a panoramic camera.

He’s too far to see his eyes, as if I would’ve been able to see them through the plastic, anyway. He couldn’t have been an arm’s length (for him) away from me earlier, and I couldn’t see them then.

His scan eventually ends with him going solid once again, looking to the ground with his hands on his sides. A minute then passes, and nothing happens. Another, and nothing.

Okay, that robot concept is looking really promising.

What, is he charging? Is he powering his thrusters or something? Why would he just stop and wait? It’s not like I’m going to come out of hiding to see for myself. At this rate, it’d be more likely for a—

“Security: raised to Level Three clearance,” an actual robotic voice sounded from an intercom, echoing from lab wall to lab wall.

Some of the unexpectant flinched in the surprise of the message, and others flinched from its volume. While both were a surprise, sure, I can’t say that I was scared by them—well, not as much as some of these suckers, anyway. I got used to emergency situations in my previous profession, especially how long I was in it, and the motley of beeps, alarms, and panic that complement them. However, those generally occur to the patient, not the operator himself, i.e. me.

Aren’t these walls already blocked mad thick from the outside with bulletproof walls and it practically being a fallout shelter? Why would it – they – we need more security?

“Commencing specialized RFID tracking test,” the announcement continued. “Please stand by for possible trace recognition.”

Recognition? Tracking? Isn’t RFID like a sensor or something? Did we get to using those at the Clinic? I feel like I’ve heard it referenced before somewhere, but I—

*BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP*

A series of beeping sounds cuts me off, very similar to an EKG. Blaring eruptions… and they won’t stop. Why won’t it stop? Why is it here!?

It doesn’t echo, but I see a few souls nearby look around for a source and come up confused. So am I. Even one walks under my spot in this tree and gazes up in these branches. Yet, they don’t know I’m here. They eventually walk off, probably thinking they’re crazy. I’m sure they’re not.

I hope I am, though.

The beeps sound like they’re right next to me. Below me. Maybe even in me. Slightly muffled but doubtlessly apparent. But God, damn it; there’s nothing in sight.

I’m doing my best to not fall or move much, but the beeps seem to move with me with every pose I make. I’m practically one hundred percent sure that these signals and I, whatever they’re from, are one and the same now.

Well, whether or not we are, if these puny people are right under my nose and can’t detect me, then there’s no way the much larger one here would, right? All my good logic is telling me to not look at him and check. If I’m lucky, then maybe that dormant giant is still just that, and—

Oh, curse me.

His head is lifted, looking right this way.

Okay, that’s strike one, but that doesn’t mean he sees me or hears them: the sounds, I mean. For all I know, he might not know what these beeps are for. If I hide even deeper, then maybe I’ll be okay. Maybe they’ll go away: the sounds and this beast. A shot in the dark, maybe…. or the shot of my life, but it’s a shot to take, nonetheless.

Going back down shouldn’t be a problem. Keeping a grip on every usable crevice down this trunk here without shaking it should be simple. Heaven knows I’m light as hell. There’s just the overhanging threat of an unreadable behemoth possibly ravaging me because of an audible pseudo heart scan going through me right now somehow or some shit like that. No big deal at all.

Screw that. It’s the biggest of deals.

Note to self: never look toward your threat when you’re trying to pump yourself up to face – or, in my case, not face – it. It never works.

The only thing passing is him, coming back down this way in a power walk. There’s no denying it. He’s coming right for me. I can feel it, and I’m not waiting for him to get here, not while I still have a chance of getting away.

The closer he gets, the more the ground begins to shake under me.

I make my way down to the lean-to I’ve carved into this tree’s trunk, having to crawl over to the floor-bound door leading to my true hideaway. It’s basically a minimalist shed with literally nothing but a door in it now, but it’s enough to do the job: get me to supreme privacy.

It still shocks me how no one’s come across this being here. It shocks me even more how small this den used to be to me, particularly when I first made it and it resembled a phone booth. It’s rather massive now, but there’s no time to concern with this.

I can feel him through the bark.

I get to the door and heave it open, glad to see the dirt-dug tunnel still intact. I don’t know if it was pure genius or stupidity that made me think to make my actual headquarters deep underground – well, as far down as one can possibly go on a hill on a table – past the tendrils that kept this protective plant standing. If it’s rather troublesome for me to get in, then it’ll have to be a little hard for him to find me in it.

Threading the needle, like I’ve never had before, I slip myself down into the void – my void – just as soon as the giant-gait-driven shaking stops. As I descend, I do my best covering my tracks, i.e. narrowing the width of the tunnel as I go with surrounding dirt so that it resembles a pore in the ground. However, I’d be crazy to say I hadn’t felt the increasing heat and a force pulling me slightly upward as I go down. He might not have found me, but he knows I’m close.

Curse this damn ringing.

What exactly is he doing up there? Feeling for me? Literally leveling the field until he comes across me? Surely, it just can’t be a natural gravitational pull from him. He’s big but not that big. It’s almost fantastical.

Hell, it is a fantasy: one I’d love to be released from, thank you.

After what feels like forever with a hunter on my tail, I eventually drop through the malleable metal box I’ve been calling my home. Box. To think that this once held test tubes or some other tools… Now, it’s practically a studio apartment – more like two meshed together if I’m completely honest. For what it’s worth, it’s been a circumstantially perfect spot that I can gladly call my own, unlike most if not all the others here. Though, I think that’s mostly because of the location.

Dwelling under what could be considered a cemetery is generally looked down upon in most social circles. But its existence is one secret that everyone, even the most compliant tinies here, has kept from them.

I hope I don’t ruin that with this cat-and-mouse chase. I hope to not join it, either.

There are dents and punctures in places where they probably shouldn’t be that scrap labels and stickers can only cover so well, but they give the place a sweet, literally rustic charm along with making the camouflage of being one with the ‘ground’ more plausible. It does what it needs to do and then some very well.

Hold my storage of leftover foods and pieces of furnishings from the surrounding enclaves on one wall. Let me rest and compose myself every day by another. Figure out some way of cleansing myself by the third – I haven’t optimized that as much as I should have. Maintain the little sanity I have left by the window on the last.

My window.

It’s just like theirs, but it’s mine and mine alone. I can’t believe I’ve had a growing plant there for this long. Hell, I can’t believe I made a window how I did. Maybe that’s why they’ve been coming after me: they know how I acquired the glass. No, they wouldn’t be that petty. They’d just—

*CRUNCH*

Jesus, what was that?

*BOOM*

No, what was that?

*BANG-BANG-BANG*

What the—!?

What are all these noises? Those upward forces are back again, too, but these noises are coming from all sides, not just above me. Well, not all sides; the window wall is still thankfully clear. I don’t think I’d be able to take seeing a—Wait, how in the world is the ceiling less deformed now?

I’m literally under a forest scattered with pygmy plants and deceased, decomposing diminutives. To get rid of that pressure, one would have to—

Oh, God. He is leveling the ground, one tree at a time.

The dirt’s probably giving way as he plucks each one up like a carrot or something. Loose pebbles or dirt clots are falling back down onto the pseudo-roof. Well, I hope it’s those rather than a body or two. I don’t know.

I can’t hear anyone reacting to this.

Surely, if the departed were being uncovered right now, then there’d be more audible chaos. My window is undetected, not soundproof… and how has nothing fallen in front of it, yet!? I mean, I’m not asking to see a covered cadaver or anything, but not even a single leaf? That’s highly imp—

*CREAK*

Kill me. I had to call it, didn’t I?

A waterfall – mudslide? – of soil and dirt suddenly falls past the glass of the window.

The linear deformation and its resulting dips going down – up? – in the ceiling was enough of a giveaway for the cause. But the enormous shadow of harsh darkness that has formed in front of the window, somehow making the night sky even more abyssal, is pretty much verifying he’s found me.

Unless my beeps aren’t somehow audible through this metal, he’s just found my slum. Hopefully, it doesn’t also become my cof— H-Hey! Hey!

My floor friction suddenly vanishes, and now I’m sliding toward my right wall, right into—Ack! Ugh, right into *cough* the side of my bed. God, damn it.

Why is this happening to me? What did I do? I—I mean, I know what I’ve done, but how is that worse than what they’ve done – what he’s done and doing!? Like *cough* Like, right now, is… is he playing with me? I can’t even stand up straight at this angle, and… and everything’s falling… g-going everywhere, including *cough* r-right on top of me. Ugh, as if *cough* there wasn’t already enough of a mess in this damn place.

I— Ugh, I need to get this stuff off if I’m ever going to… to…

Jesus, when did I… I get so… m-much stuff? It’s… *cough* It’s t-too much. I—*cough* l c-can’t… m-move. I… *cough* …I… *cough* I’m…

*CREAK*

“Specialized RFID tracking test terminated. Security: lowered to Level Two clearance. Sect C technicians report to their stations. T r a c e   r e t r i e v e d   t o   b   e   t    r    a    n    s—”

[silver-ink-iron-words]

Before the villain kidnapped them, the hero would have told you that they loved their power.

Their friends joked that they literally had the power of friendship. And, in a way, it wasn’t far off. Social interaction charged the hero. It fueled their abilities, but also made them feel strong. Energized. Alive.

Before, their life had been an excess of parties, festivals, and pub nights. They had the uncanny ability to form fast and meaningful friendships with almost anyone they came across. They were at the center of a thriving ecosystem of connection, and loving every second of it.

But now, it had been months since they’d last seen a single living soul other than the villain.

When is [Villain] coming back? they wondered.

They’d stopped being embarrassed by such thoughts a long time ago. The solitude ached in their bones, weighed down their limbs. They were half convinced it was slowly killing them.

They heard the front door open, and perked up.

“[Hero], I’m hoooome,” the villain called.

There was still a part of the hero that burned whenever they heard that voice. It was this part of them that kept them awake late into the night, imagining all the ways they could make the villain suffer.

But now. Now, they sprinted forward and wrapped the villain in a tight, desperate hug.

[drfitzmonster]

kara loves strapping

she loves that even though she can’t really feel lena clenched around her, warm and wet and throbbing, she sort of can, and it’s the best feeling in the world

she loves the breathy little cry lena lets out when she first enters her, the sharp intake of breath she often forgets to release until kara’s soft reminder for her to breathe, baby

she loves watching lena’s face as she snaps her hips forward, she loves the way her eyes widen ever so slightly with every thrust, and her lips part to let out the sweetest whimpers and moans

she loves being deep inside lena, as deep as she can be, until they are flush against each other, hip to hip, belly to belly, slick to slick

she loves staying deep, rolling her hips slowly, slowly, her cock set at the perfect angle, keeping lena teetering on the edge until all she can do is beg for kara to please, please fuck her harder

she loves laying on her back and letting lena ride her, holding her hips firmly and thrusting lazily while lena grinds herself to orgasm

she loves indulging lena, working her up slowly, teasing her playfully, fucking her exactly the way she deserves to be fucked: gently, reverently, lovingly, relentlessly, until she’s so blissed out and spent that she can’t remember what day it is

she loves how lena’s pussy looks stretched around her cock, candy pink and puffy, spread slick and glistening, peeking out from thick dark curls of lena’s pubic thatch

she loves fucking lena’s mouth, gently, a hand cupping her cheek, while she whispers soft encouragements to her

she loves the way lena looks after sucking her cock, bashful and red-cheeked, her lipstick smudged, hair mussed by kara’s hand

she loves how needy lena is, how much she whimpers and whines and clutches at her

she loves telling lena how perfect and good and beautiful she is, she loves the flush it sends into her cheeks and down her chest, she loves how quickly just a little praise can send lena over the edge

she loves kissing lena as she comes, swallowing her moans, sucking on her lip, sharing breath with her

she loves holding lena through her aftershocks, kissing her face and speaking sweetly to her as she comes down, cock still buried inside her because she knows lena feels safe when she is full, when she is close, when they are connected

she loves letting lena catch her breath and asking sweetly to fuck her again

and she loves, maybe most of all, when lena has had enough, tending to her: drawing her a bath, massaging her sore muscles, washing her hair, giving her another orgasm or two if she’s not too sensitive, and finally carrying her back to bed, where they can fall asleep together, lena’s head pillowed on kara’s chest, their two hearts beating in perfect complement