#to being. practically bedbound

[semiotomatics]

yeah okay lets talk abt this (sorry it got long i needed to vent lol)

okay so. the basics: started getting pretty severe back pain in 2013 when i started having to stand for 8 hours at a time at my job. ended up getting a workers comp claim filed and going to physio, where they taught me some exercises to strengthen my core/other muscles + got those like, deep tissue/pressure point massages w heat or w/e. but the workers comp only lasted like a couple months or smth so i stopped going after that

fast forward to summer 2015 n im at a local street festival n a chiropractor is offering free x-rays + consult for ppl experiencing back pain. well! i absolutely was still experiencing back pain! so i got said free x-rays n at the consult learned that i had 1) scoliosis 2) a tilted pelvis and 3) an extra lumbar vertebrae. he (ofc) recommended i start getting treated by him but a) my medical at the time didnt cover chiropractors and b) iiiii didnt really have the best opinion of chiropractic uhhh anything xD so i declined

over the next seven years my back pain got worse and worse, and i developed pain basically throughout my entire body, with the worst of it centring around my lower back/knees/ankles/feet. in late 2020 i finally got fitted for custom orthotics during which the...guy-who-gets-you-fitted-for-orthotics noted i had "some of the flattest feet he had ever seen" (possibly also some of the most flexible ankles he had ever seen as well, i cant remember lol). i already knew i had flat feet (obvs) n suspected my ankles were fucked up but it was v validating to hear him confirm that both of these things would increase my chances of experiencing back/knee/ankle/foot pain. unfortunately, i got those orthotics shortly after getting laid off from work n ended up not working again till almost a year later so i wasn't really able to like, test them out for a while, and by the time i did and found out they didnt really help, my free adjustment period had ended :(

alongside the chronic back/joint pain i also started experiencing sciatic nerve pain as well as routinely "throwing out" my back (idk if i pinch a nerve or tear a muscle or what but im basically bedbound for like. a week or more and if i move or use that muscle at all its the most excruciating pain ive ever experienced in my life). in late summer 2022 i "threw out my back" while volunteering n ended up walking on it for like. a couple hours afterwards which uhhhhhhhhh fucked me up severely. the pain started radiating out from my back into my hips/legs, and my hips literally just straight up stopped moving/working right anymore. i was walking like, not with a limp but almost like with a weird sway to my hips? aaaaand my scoliosis reversed itself!!! where before my spine had curved to one side, all of a sudden it was curving the other way!! and the curve was much more noticeable just by looking at my silhouette in the mirror than it ever had been before!! which was not a thing i thought could happen!! so like, what the fuck!!

i ended up getting prescribed prescription-strength muscle relaxants as well as prescription-strength naproxen for that injury, which was a godsend, but i also was motivated, mostly by the whole scoliosis-reversal thing, to actually get my back checked out by someone to see wtf was going on. so i went to a local clinic (i have no pcp) and explained my situation to the dr, basically everything ive just described here.

and he said. and i quote "well, losing weight would help with that"

.

you guys.

when i tell you that i burst into tears

i burst into tears in that room and begged him, begged him to help me find out what was wrong. i told him the pain was preventing me from working, preventing me from running errands, preventing me from living. i told him i was feeling actively suicidal because of both the pain itself and how it was destroying my life.

finally, after listening to all that, he said, exasperated: "well what do you want me to do?"

and i said "please, can you just refer me to get an x-ray to see what's going on with my back"

so he did. and i went and got an x-ray a few days later. i asked the tech there if i could get a copy of them and she said to wait until they were sent to the doctors office and request copies from them, so i did. when they hadn't called me back in a couple weeks i called them asking if they had received them yet. they said no. i asked if they would call me when they did. they said yes.

they never did.

that was in december 2022. then 2023 happened and i just. i gave up yall. i gave up on ever getting a fucking answer for why i was in so much pain, let alone ever being able to fix it. even after my breakdown this summer which finally led to me starting on antidepressants and then therapy, i still didnt have a shred of faith that id ever be able to get any dr to give a shit abt the debilitating pain i had spent the last decade of my life experiencing

and then. finally. this week. i was just like. fuck it. whats the email of that clinic. and i found it, and i emailed them asking for copies of my x-rays, if they still had them. and they responded! the very next day! unfortunately they only gave me the...i assume radiologists? findings rather than the x-rays themselves (im gonna write back seeing if/how i can get those, cause i do still want them for my records). but still!! oh my god!! its been an entire calendar year but i finally got to find out what the results were!!

so the extra lumbar vertebrae i knew already. the rest i was kinda surprised to hear cause like? ive seen my 2015 x-rays and they clearly showed my scoliosis/tilted pelvis? so i assumed this would too? but who knows! it had been seven years! also the first set were done standing up, while these ones were done lying down, so idk how that might affect things. in any case, i decided to google this "presumed lumbarization of S1 vertebra", just to see what came up

yall.

yall.

so like!!! okay!!! when i was told the whole "having an extra lumbar vertebra was fine and wouldn't cause back pain" thing that was just straight up false i guess!! and when i went to the dr and told him i had low back pain + scoliosis + an extra lumbar vertebra he should've!! perhaps!! investigated further!!

i cannot explain to you how furious this makes me. whether this is the exclusive cause of my back pain, a contributing cause, hell, even if its a complete red herring. every source i read indicated that if a patient presents with chronic severe low back pain AND known structural abnormalities (like literally all of mine!!) that they should fucking consider that perhaps those two things are related!! they should AT FUCKING LEAST try to rule them out as causes!!!!!!! they definitely shouldnt tell their (not in any way overweight btw) patient to lose weight!!!!!! fuck!!!!!

anyway. in the new year i am going to try again to get a dr to take me seriously. and maybe they wont. maybe ill have to cry and beg again for them to give me the basic standard of care. but fuck!! im not going to give up until SOMEONE agrees to actually figure out what the fuck is wrong with me!! i don't want to be in pain anymore!!! i just fucking dont!!!!!!!

HOLY SHIT

fucking. fuck.

i dont have the energy/mental bandwidth to properly explain rn but i just Learned Something abt my body that could explain a biiiiiig part of the issues ive been having

and the fact that im only learning it now, in december 2023 at the age of almost-30, has me. fuming

i legitimately want every single apathetic/lazy/misogynistic/fucking ableist healthcare professional to die!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[fantastic-mr-corvid]

not enough energy to do anything time consuming but dying of boredom fucking sucks. I'm being sooo brave and resting and not doing anything that will exhaust/strain myself futher but I'm clawing at the walls. Mentally. Bc that much movement hurtsssss

[vaaaaaiolet]

Your seasonally available secret-agent roommate got too into the holiday punch this year, and he's bursting with a secret you're not too keen on coming to terms with.

secret santa fic for @crsssie!! roommates + mistletoe + one serving of cuddling <3

HUGE thank you for setting up Leon Secret Santa 2024 and a HUGER apology for messing up the time 😭 i love you LOADS cressie and i hope this fic has banter that lives up to the wonderful dialogue in your fics <3 MERRY CHRISTMAS!!

gn / m, romance, fluff, BANTER, leon is SO BAD at feelings, roommates au, angst / slight miscommunication trope + drunken confessions, close your eyes and ignore canon for me <3 no mention of pronouns but reader has bobby pins in their hair cw: alcohol / drunkenness

word count: 1.5k // read on ao3

“Shit, I didn’t-”

“Open your eyes, Leon! You’re going to fall, just hold on to me, we’re almost-”

“...don’t need you to,” he slurs, “I got it!”

Leon, of course, has got nothing at all besides shitfaced drunk. Your key is currently deciding not to fit into the convoluted lock he’d decided was absolutely necessary for your shared apartment. It was something about you having the fighting talent of a bedbound sloth (completely subjective opinion, you’d argued) and him being out of the country every few weeks.

The snow must’ve frozen it over while you two were out tonight, and between shouldering 165 pounds of muscle mass while manifesting a bobby pin into existence from your now-bedraggled hairdo to work into the keyhole, the start of Christmas Day is starting to look like Mission Impossible. 

“Don’t make this harder for me,” you plead to both your problems. 

The lock seems to be the only one to listen. Please, please – yes! The mahogany door to the apartment swings open, and you shoulder in your precious cargo, tracking snow all over the floor that’s sure to melt into sludge come morning. Luckily, the chore chart’s on your side tomorrow: Leon’s due for mopping. 

Once he wakes up from his alcohol induced nap, that is. And then you’ll have your fun. 

You deposit him on the couch faster than your paycheck, and your lungs inflate three sizes once his back makes contact with the cushions. “God, you’re heavy,” you pant, wiping your forehead.

“‘Cause you don’t go to the gym with me. Gotta get stronger.”

“I’ll quit my job and get buff once you start paying more than a third of the rent, yeah?”

Leon snorts. “‘m only here a third of the time anyway,” he says under his breath. 

He’s right, of course. The rent split was your idea, fair and square. But you pretend he isn’t. Pretend that it doesn’t hurt, either, like his punches when he tries to teach you self-defense whenever he’s free.

A cherub ornament must’ve fallen from the Christmas tree in the kitchen and crashed on your couch. Frosty blue eyes flutter open to gaze up at you from the cushions. There’s roses in Leon’s pale cheeks, flushed from the outdoors combined with him drinking his head off tonight, and when a wistful, angelic expression spreads across his face, you wish the snowstorm outside would’ve frozen over your heart instead of the door lock. 

He crooks a finger at you. Whispers like it hurts him, “Got somethin’ to tell ya.”

Your breath hitches. “Yeah?”

“‘s goddamn freezing in here.”

Unbelievable. You throw a couch cushion at his chest and he has the nerve to giggle while you stomp away to shut the front door. “You shouldn’t have gotten so drunk, Leon, what were you thinking?” you scold the subzero air. 

“I can handle my drinks!” he shouts back.

“Then why are you passed out on my couch?”

And despite having your back to him almost ten feet away, you can practically hear his brow scrunch at your words. “Thought it was our couch.”

You wave a flippant hand. “You know what I mean.”

“But you’re right,” he barks out a laugh. “Should be yours. All of it, I…I shouldn’t be here.”

He might be the one drunk tonight, but you’re the one feeling that telltale nausea all of a sudden. Leon’s laugh never makes your stomach roil like this. Screw all the little catches and springs – you twist the biggest one on the door’s lock closed and power walk back to the living room, taking a kneel on the couch next to Leon’s head. He’s turned to the other side now, broad back facing you. Tit for tat. 

“What are you talking about?” Digging your fingers into his right delt, you pry him back to look him in the eye, barely keeping the alarm out of your voice. 

“Uh, coins. Lotsa coins in the couch.” Leon fishes out a dime, shoots you a plastic excuse of a smile like you were born yesterday, “Yours?”

You shake his shoulder. “Don’t play dumb with me, come on. What did you say about you not being here?” 

“Mistletoe too, so much stuff in here…” 

You don’t even spare it a second glance, snatching the sprig out of his fingers. “What’s going on?” you ask, voice trembling. 

Because truth be told, security obsession and his pain-in-the-ass work schedule besides, you really can’t imagine living with anyone else. 

It’s been a year with Leon, your mysterious government agent roommate, the one who you’d spent nights hunched over the kitchen counter with corner store ramen. You’d gripe over your shitty coworkers, he’d threaten to tear them each a new one, and you’d half-pretend to beg him not to. And then you’d both couch surf until the sunrise, with you ending up cuddling into his chest and magically tucked into bed the next morning with your share of the chores done before Leon left for the day.

Leon’s shoulder was always there for you to cry on after failed first dates. It was the one favor you couldn’t pay back in kind; the man seemed to have zero interest in dating with a curious tendency to grow quiet whenever the question got brought up. But for him, you kept your first aid kit stocked. You’ve lost count of how many times you’d stayed up past two AM cleaning his cuts and icing his bruises upon his return home. 

It was a shared agreement. He kept his secrets, you got a built-in best friend. Or at least you thought you did before now.

Your throat stings. “Is this why you drank so much? You didn’t have the guts to tell me you hate living together?” You crumple the hem of his sweater in your fist.

The faraway look in Leon’s eyes clears instantaneously once he registers what’s starting to spill down your cheeks. 

Your next demand comes out riddled with cracks. “You have to be h-honest, Leon, promise me. Why don’t you want to stay?”

“Then you’ll stop crying?” 

Leon’s hands clumsily drift up to cup your cheeks, but the world’s gone full snowglobe through your haze of tears. You don’t pay them any mind, nodding fervently. 

“It’s you,” he breathes. 

You smell the mulled wine in his breath. Your holiday once-favorite, sweet and and now sickening. You’re a bruised peach, frostbitten and smashed under his Timberlands. Leon had it all wrong; it wasn’t the front door that needed to be padlocked, it was your stupid heart and the creeping realization that you’d tried to stave off with all those horrible dates and more excuses to fall asleep in his arms. 

The thing Leon did get right, though, was that you had no fighting chance. How could you let him break his way so completely into your life? He wasn’t even here half the time and here you are, fighting the clock to greet him home like he even wanted you there. 

You shake your head, interrupting the thumbs trying to wipe away your tears. “That’s fine. Yeah. Totally fine,” you sniffle, putting on your customer service brave face.

“No,” Leon frowns. 

“If I’m such a horrible roommate, we can sto-”

“No,” he repeats firmly. “Don’t…ugh,” he claps a hand to his forehead, the alcohol headache hot on his heels. 

“Don’t what?” you cry.

“Not helping,” Leon grits.

“Sorry for being sad that I’ll miss my best friend? I don’t know what you want me to-”

There’s a sharp pull on your wrist. With an exasperated sigh, Leon lifts the fist at your side with the sprig of mistletoe still in it above your head. You get one, maybe two seconds to wonder how he remembered it was there before his lips collide with yours, his calloused palm guiding your cheek towards his cherry-flavored mouth. The wind knocks out of you – more than that time you dared him to throw you over his shoulder.

The mistletoe falls out of your fingers. Leon’s thumb brushes the last tear out of the corner of your eye and mulled wine becomes your favorite again.

“Didn’t have the guts to say I liked ya,” he mumbles, and your heart skips. Leon’s smiling. 

“You’d rather move out than admit you like me?” you tease, breathless, arms circling around his neck the way they always do when he princess carries you. 

“Sweetheart, y’know me.”

And yeah, you do. Nobody else does quite like you.

“Stupid.” You let him kiss you a moment more before pulling away; you can’t help that his frowny face is your favorite expression on him when he’s drunk. “And you know what happens when you pull stupid stunts like that?”

Leon blinks at you, the consequences of bad backflipping flashing through his head. “Don’t want plunger duty!” he groans, flopping back onto the couch.

He’ll be wishing the toilet rats a Merry Christmas, poor guy. Your guy. You’ll just have to wait to cuddle him after he takes an hour-long shower.

@leonsecretsanta MERRY CHRISTMAS Y'ALL!! link to my masterlist lol

dividers by @/strangergraphics!

[pomefioredove]

Helloo!

Can I have a chocolate cookie, #3 with chestnuts and whipped cream, please?

Hope I'm lucky!🤞😺

ofc!!

order #3, chocolate with chestnuts, whipped cream

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ cat scratch fever

summary: the royal heir lays sick in bed. luckily, they have their poet to keep them entertained tropes: sick fic, royalty au characters: che'nya additional info: romantic or platonic, gender neutral reader, reader is not specified to be yuu, not actually cat scratch fever I just liked that as a title

It started, as most disagreeable things do, with a cough.

And then fatigue. And then fever. And then a swelling in your feet and fingers (which finally fell on the second day of treatment).

And now a fourth round of medicine is being forced down your throat by a nursemaid, and no one had been more miserable.

You sputter and spit, the black, bitter substance staining your silken bedsheets. Your mother would have a fit if she saw how you were soiling her nice fabrics.

For fuck's sake. Why would you care? Why does the thought even come to mind? Your parents haven't even visited you.

It's been... weeks, perhaps. Of this pitiful sickness.

You're the only child- the heir. If you die, one of your many uncles or cousins or second-cousins or third-cousins will take the throne in your stead. There will be war, of course.

Your survival is political. Not personal.

"Feeling better?" a maid you've never met asks, drawing the curtains to drag in the morning.

You shield your eyes from the oppressive sun and pout.

"I've run out of things to read,"

"Have you? I could have sworn that Marian brought in a stack of books just yesterday,"

"All of them," you say. "I've read all of them. No one will speak to me, so how else should I keep myself entertained?"

The maid hums, mulling over the thought while she tidies your room (not that there's much to tidy- you haven't been out of bed in days). And then she snaps her fingers.

"The poet. I'll send for him,"

You groan, sliding back into bed, as if your blankets might shield you from your boring fate. "Please, not him. I don't know if i could bear it. He's so strange!"

"Nonsense, he'll keep you company, and he'll speak to you for hours,"

And that's exactly what you're dreading.

"How doth the little crocodile-"

"I've heard this one. You just recited it ten minutes ago!"

"-improve his shining tail?"

You moan, as if in some pathetic amount of pain, and you almost throw your pillow at him. "You're not even listening!"

Che'nya's eyes sparkle, the slitted pupils practically pouncing on you, devouring your delicate state. He takes too much pleasure in having you bedbound- you have no choice but to listen to him, here.

"I am," he says, poking your cheek. "I just don't think you understood it the first time. Let's try again."

"How presumptuous," you grumble. "Tell me something else. I am the dying one here, you know. I don't have the time."

"You can't have time, silly. Is it in your pants-pocket? Your armoire?"

"Tell me something else,"

He ponders on that, cradling his chin in his palm. His catlike eyes carry over your shivering, pitiful form. "Mm... you do remind me of a story of a certain girl..."

Your eyes widen. "Yes?"

"...But I don't think you'd care to hear that one. How about the man who stood on his head?"

"NO!" you throw your pillow at him, and he parries it with infuriating ease.

"How about the one about the walrus and carpenter?"

"Not that, either. I want the one about the girl,"

"Or the bat?"

"I want the story about the girl,"

"My, you are so picky!" Che'nya smiles. "However am I supposed to know what you want? I can't read your mind, you know."

You're not so sure about that. You sigh, slumping in bed like you had already died.

Che'nya relents. "Well, it's not as catchy as the bat, but I suppose it'll do. There was once a girl,"

You sit up in bed and nod. "Yes?"

"Who drank this dreadfully curious concoction,"

"Yes, yes?"

"-Which she really not ought have, mind you. One shouldn't go tasting things one hasn't introduced themselves to,"

"What happened to the girl?"

"She shrank,"

"She shrank?"

"To the height of a hairpin! Miserable, she was, all sick and small, to top it off,"

You furrow your brow. "Well, how did she grow back?"

"Pardon? Grow back?"

"She got better, didn't she? How did she grow back?"

"Oh, never, never!" Che'nya cries, grabbing his chest as if his heart couldn't handle the thought. "She stayed small for-ever. She floated on the open sea in a glass bottle until the end of her days."

"What!" you cry, propelling another goose-feather pillow at his face. He parries it this time, too.

"What? I told you the story. Let's recite the alphabet backwards,"

"That can't be the end," you say, finding the strength to fall out of bed and fumble yourself over to his stool. "She must have found a way to get better. Didn't she?"

Che'nya makes no attempt to help you keep your footing, preoccupied with thought (as he so often is), and you fall across his lap.

"...Hm... well, hm... yes, it's coming back to me now,"

"What is it?"

"She rested, and then... Well, when someone shrinks- the only way to grow is to eat,"

"Eat? Eat what?"

"Oh, anything wonderish. Biscuits, mushrooms, tree bark, tea leaves, butter, sugar, lemon, tree bark-"

"Something strange? But wouldn't that poison you?"

Che'nya taps the tip of your nose and then finds your waist, finally lifting you to your feet. "But was it not poison that shrunk her in the first place?"

He carries you to your sickbed, tucking you back under the covers and fluffing your pillows for comfort, with such a delicate touch that you might have forgotten about the story altogether.

"Was it?" you yawn, tired from your tumble out of bed and bored of the arguing.

Che'nya smiles. "Perhaps another curious little thing ought to be careful about what they drink, too... I suppose I should sit on your head like a hat and warn you of these things,"

"Yeah... maybe,"

Vague as ever. He kisses your skin, salty as if you had been floating on the open sea, too. "Sleep well. I'll have biscuits and mushrooms for you by morning,"

[phleb0tomist]

did you grow up with chronic pain? did you get called sensitive as a kid/teen with chronic pain? were you bombarded with wisecracks from adults who said you won’t know real pain till you get older? join my initiative to ban this vile practice from planet earth!

i had chronic pain as a kid. (still do now.) my physical ability was best in childhood, like, i could do cartwheels then, meanwhile i can’t walk now. but istg my pain was regularly at this very same level back in childhood. ok i have extra symptoms now which make things harder, but if we’re JUST focusing on the pain part, it’s often the same. this blows my mind. the level of pain that i have now, bedbound and with opioids and a million accommodations, is the same level i had when i was 10 when i was just walkin around all day, asking my teachers nicely if i could sit indoors during playtime. (they said no btw.) back then, every time i tried to tell people how much everything hurt, adults said i was “sensitive”.

was i sensitive? is that what i was?

I think i must have been insanely powerful as a 10 year old to be out and about with a level of pain that makes me nonfunctional as an adult. I wonder how many kids and teens are in that amount of pain right now and are being dismissed because of their age. i think the way adults treat children with long term pain is evil. “you don’t know real pain! it only gets worse as you get older! wait till you grow up!!”

okay i waited.

i’m closer to 30 now than i am to 10, and the more hindsight i gain, the more i realise what a horrific violation it is that my pain was ignored when i was the most vulnerable to the trauma of unmanaged pain and had the least frame of reference for what level of agony is normal to experience while climbing stairs

[mychlapci]

https://www.tumblr.com/mychlapci/777477911564435456/mommy-megatron

mommy megatron is tired all the time. his belly is so big, almost touching his autobot brand, and he’s gotten a lot older since his last pregnancy. part of him hates being doted on by autobots, but it does feel nice to be cared for. it seems like a nice break for the ship to have the stricter captain practically bedbound, lying down with ravage all day while the babies’ emergence date creeps closer. soft, at peace

augh oh lord that's a wonderful thing to imagine.

[gaycragula]

Ignorance is Piss.. err Bliss

Pairing : Masc!V x Male Reader ( Hinted V x M!Reader x Johnny Silverhand x Kerry Eurodyne ) Warning(s) : NSFW under the cut uhhh all V fics are the cutie V from the E3 2019 trailer

Warning(s) : Piss kink, omorashi, wetting, shower sex, oral sex/blowjobs, deepthroating, handjobs, uhhh little bit of bratty v that quickly turns into a subby v, light dom/sub undertones(?), praise kink (V), multiple orgasms Word Count : 4259 AO3 Link Masterlist

You and V had agreed to go on a little vacation. Just the two of you so Johnny and Kerry could focus on music now that Johnny’s actually up and moving on his own, no longer practically bedbound. 

You’d left early in the morning, kissing a grumpy Kerry goodbye because he’d been insistent on seeing the two of you off. Johnny was still asleep, snoring just loud enough that you could hear it at the bottom of the stairs. He’d probably call you later when you were on the road. 

The place you’d, or rather V, decided on was about a six hour drive north. A nice cabin on a lake. V had always wanted to stay on a lake. And this one didn’t have tons of toxic waste dumped in it on the daily, meaning you’d actually be able to swim in it.

You climb into the driver's seat and V slips in the passenger seat. He settles back and kicks a leg up on the dash, ignoring the glare you shoot his way. “Get my car dirty and you’re cleaning it.”

“Whatever you say, babe.” V grins at you, nice and toothy like he always does. It makes you huff but pulls a smile to your face. V being in a good mood almost always keeps you in a good mood. 

You made one stop at a gas station to pick up drinks and snacks before you were on the highway heading towards your getaway. 

There was a big difference between you and V when it came to car rides. You liked to piss whenever you stopped just as a precaution. V waited til he was near ready to piss himself before finally going. 

And this trip was no different. You pissed when you stopped for food and drink while V insisted he didn’t need to go and wouldn’t need to the entire drive. “It’s only six hours, I can hold it,” he’d said. You went with it.

You notice about three hours in that he’s squirming in his seat. It's subtle, like he’s trying to hide it from you. And it’s times like these that you remember Johnny had rubbed off on him. V was slower to admit when he could not, in fact, do something. 

At the start, you pushed at him when he wouldn’t back down over something. Now, you liked to wait it out, see how long it took for V to break and finally admit he was wrong. 

So, you say nothing. You watch from the corner of your eye as his legs start to press in on themselves and he pushes his ass forward in the seat to lower the pressure on his stomach and his NiCola remains half full in the cupholder. Oh, this was going to be a fun drive. 

You continue to play ignorant even when V starts panting quietly and your conversations begin to die out. He won’t ask you to pull over though. As stubborn as a mule. 

You get a kick when you start rolling down the gravel driveway leading to the cabin, the car bouncing along and bringing V along with it. His teeth have long since left dents in his lip and his legs are squeezed so tight together they had to’ve hurt. He’s been holding onto the door handle, white knuckled like it’d save him. 

The car jerks forward when you put it in park and, instead of unlocking the door, you prop your elbow on the center console and turn towards V. He doesn’t look at you but you can still see how flushed his cheeks are and the way his shoulders shake with each breath he takes. 

“Need to piss?” You tease him, bringing your free hand to rest on V’s knee. His leg twitches before he presses them tighter together. He’d probably piss himself if he opened them.

That thought gives you an idea. The two of you had toed the idea before and now would be the perfect time to cross that line together. 

“C’mon, babe,” you coo at him, giving his knee a little shake. It gets you an equally shaky breath from V and him trying to push your hand away. 

“Unlock the car, let me out,” he pleads. His voice trembles just as much as his body does. It’s cute. 

You hum as if in thought before shaking your head. “Nah, don’t think I will,” you chuckle, leaning over the center console to pry his legs apart again. 

His hand flies to your wrist but he doesn’t try to push you away this time. It seems your intentions have already registered in his head. “I’ll make a mess,” he warns, like you didn’t already know. 

“‘S fine,” you assure, leaning over to nudge his cheek with your nose. V turns his head to

bump his nose against yours in response. “We got towels.”

Thank God you had leather seats. 

Using both hands, you carefully pry V’s legs open. He lets you. His thighs tremble under your palms and you hear him take a shuddering breath when you get them apart. His hips push away from the seat again. He’s still trying to hold it in. 

You tut quietly. That just wouldn’t do. Your hand slips up the inseam of his pants to his dick. V’s breathing picks up and he starts squirming again, quiet whines catching in his throat as your fingers press against his dick through his jeans. “Babe..” he rasps one last warning. 

You bite your lip and let your hand drift up a bit more to press the flat of your palm into the soft skin of his tummy just above his bladder. You lean your weight into it. 

The effect is almost immediate. His legs tense, heels digging into the floor mats and pushing him up against the back of his seat as he loses control of his bladder. 

He shouts your name hoarsely, voice pitched up in a broken whine when you lean a bit more weight onto your hand. One of his hands claws at your arm, nails leaving nice crescents on your arm when they’re not dragging down it. 

His other hand yanks on the door handle hard enough you think it might break. You can tell he’s trying to control how hard he pulls though. The muscles in his arm twitch as he tries to keep from breaking the door. Then, a beautiful moan tears out of his throat. Low and reedy like you’d just shoved your dick in his ass. It makes your dick twitch. 

He slumps a second later. A dark stain gradually takes over the crotch of his pants, trickling down his pant leg before a puddle gathers underneath him. “Good boy,” you whisper, palming that spot on his tummy just to watch him squirm.

His hips jerk and twitch against the seat as he relieves himself but, if the little bulge you can see is anything to go by, he’s enjoying this as much as you are. You grin to yourself at the sight and gradually ease the pressure on his tummy.

V gasps, his hips twitching up one last time like he was chasing the pressure your hand gave him before settling back down. He’s got the prettiest flush on his cheeks as he sits half hard in a puddle of his own piss. And, fuck, if he didn’t like it. 

“You did good,” you assure him, pressing a kiss to his temple before finally unlocking the car. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up.” You’d need to get V all nice and clean and then your car would need the same attention. 

There’s a quiet whimper when V goes to step out of the car. You barely have enough time to get your arm wrapped around his waist to keep him from slipping back in the seat before his knees give. He slumps heavily against you, legs trembling from being tensed up for so long. 

You keep him upright as you grab one of the bags you’d brought. It had soap and an extra change of clothes for the both of you. Might as well take a shower to get V all cleaned up. 

“Gonna hold it in next time?” You ask him teasingly, guiding him up the stairs to the cabin. “Or are you gonna ask me to stop before you piss yourself?”

“I wouldn’t have pissed myself if you’d let me out!” V protests, his head coming to rest on your shoulder while you unlock the door. He doesn’t answer your question though. Both of you know that in itself is an answer. V wouldn’t mind doing that again. At all.

“I don’t think you would’ve made it inside even if I had let you out.” You nudge V forward when you get the door open and he stumbles before catching himself on the back of the couch inside. He doesn’t have much time to gripe at you before you’re pressing against him and reaching around to cup his soaked bulge. “Plus.. it seems you enjoyed it, yeah? Need help with this?”

The body under you tenses and a breathy moan escapes his mouth with the action. He pushes back against you, shifting until he can feel the outline of your own half hard cock. “Yeah..” he rasps out before he gets that cocky lilt to his voice again, like he suddenly regains himself. “Gonna give me a hand? Make a mess of the couch?”

You scoff in turn, giving V a nice slap on the ass when you pull back. It makes him jerk forward but he recovers quickly, giving you a nice shake of his ass in an attempt to entice you back to him. “Not here. I don’t wanna lose the deposit. Get your pretty ass to the bathroom.”

V chuckles, clearly having gotten his head back on straight now that his bladder was empty and it wasn’t taking everything in him to not piss himself. He pushes off the couch and grabs your wrist to tug you in the direction of the master bedroom and, with it, the master bathroom.

You let him. He pulls you into a kiss when you get into the bathroom, pressing his soaked front against yours. He swallows up the annoyed groan you give him when lingering piss begins to soak into your pants too. Little bastard even grins against your lips before biting down. 

His tongue follows the sting of his teeth and you let your lips part so he can lick into your mouth. You push him back until he hits the sink, hands on his hips while his arms wrap around your shoulders. V dominates the kiss, practically devouring your mouth while you grind your hips together, deciding you didn’t care if your pants got a little pissy. 

“Thought you were gonna get me cleaned up,” V growls against your lips, giving them one final nip before dipping down to your neck. He doesn’t hesitate to sink his teeth in. You growl low in your throat and bring one hand up to grab a fistful of his hair and pull him away from your neck. He’d let it grow out some after the chip had been removed. Just enough that he could have it pulled. 

“Maybe if someone could keep his hands to himself,” you start, using the grip in his hair to give him a rough little shake. It has him grinning. “We’d already be in the shower.”

You let go of his hair and reach down to begin undoing his pants. His pants and boxers hit the floor with a wet plop. He steps out of them and kicks them away. “You’re cleaning that,” you tell him when you notice the smear it leaves.

“Sure, whatever,” V grumbles, grabbing your hand and bringing it to his dick. “Jus’ get me off like you said you would.”

You wrap your hand loosely around him. Not enough to give him the friction he needed but enough to tease him with it. A groan leaves his lips and he leans forward to rest his head on your shoulder. “Please..?” 

His quiet little plea brings a chuckle from you. It was easy to get V to beg even if he liked to be a little bratty at first. You give him one firm stroke that has him moaning into your shirt before you pull away. You give the tip of his dick a little flick and V whines. “Got a shower to take, babe. You smell like piss.”

“Fuck you,” V complains with a scowl. It disappears almost as soon as you strip your shirt. He chews on his lip when you reach for the hem of his and raises his arms to let you pull it up and off of him. Both of you work your pants off and they join V’s. 

V tries to grab your dick but you grab his wrist before he can. He actually pouts at you when you do, bottom lip jutting out and brows furrowing in a bit. “You’re not pouting, are you?” You tease him, stepping away from him completely. 

He looks like he’s about to whine, maybe even beg you not to leave him like this, only to stop himself when you simply go to turn on the shower, get the water running so it warms up. It doesn’t take long for it to warm and you step in, turning to look at V. “You coming in or not?”

He’s in the shower less than a second later. The water runs at that perfect temperature where steam rises from it, surely fogging the mirror but that’s of no importance to you. Your prize is the hot length of V’s dick. 

Pushing him into the corner of the shower, you wrap your hand around his dick and begin jerking him in earnest. V moans his thanks, hips jerking forward with every pump of your hand. His eyes lid and a semi drunken smile comes to his lips as he finally gets what he’s wanted since you pulled him out of the car. 

V’s head bumps against yours as he reaches for your cock and he takes the chance to nestle his nose against your cheek. You let him, even go along and nuzzle into his cheek in turn. 

Your cock twitches in his hand as he gives it a couple pumps. It brings a quiet groan from you and V takes it as encouragement to pick up the pace. He matches yours easily. 

Breathing each other’s air between shared pants was some of your favorite moments of intimacy. You press a little closer to V and bring your free hand up to cup his face. The other leans into it, tilting his head enough for you to finally kiss him again. 

Tongues meet in a sensual dance and both of your hands slow on the other to really bask in the sensations. You hear V sigh pleasantly into your mouth just as his free arm drapes over your shoulder. Fingers scratch at the nape of your neck a couple times before he simply cups it. Holds you close. 

He doesn’t let you pull away when the kiss breaks. The hand on your nape keeps your nose nestled against the side of his. You don’t try to pull back again. 

The hand on your dick quickens again in thanks and you return the favor by matching his pace. Your name tumbles from his lips in sweet whispers as you egg him closer and closer to the edge. His breath is warm against your face as he pants and whines. 

“Close..” he whispers against your cheek, nuzzling into it again. So many times edging him has him conditioned to tell you. It was cute, in a way. That he gave you total control over his orgasms. 

You wouldn’t do that to him today though. You tell him as much. “Don’t have to hold back this time,” you whisper back, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. 

V breathes a sigh of relief, letting his hips fuck into your hand. His hand never pauses on your own dick even as his rhythm goes wack. His own pleasure is at the forefront and you’re not gonna ruin it for him. 

His cock jerks once, twice before he comes. Warmth coats your fingers and cock and the hand on your neck tightens its grip. A pretty little gasp of your name leaves his lips, muffled against the skin of your cheek but all the same. 

“Good boy, Vince,” you praise, relishing in the soft moan it gets you. You work him through his peak until he’s shuddering against you and trying to pull his dick out of your grasp. You wait till he whimpers before you let him. 

V’s hand had stopped on your dick and he’s just breathing against your skin now. There’s a quiet noise of complaint when you pull your hand off of him but it’s quick to melt into a lewd groan when you lean back enough to bring your soiled fingers to his lips. 

He takes them eagerly, taking two of them down to the last knuckle. V’s eyes lid as he watches you watch him. Your neglected dick twitches in his hand as his tongue works along your skin. What you’d give to have his mouth lower. 

You decide you want him on his knees for you in that moment. Ignoring the pitiful little whine he gives when you withdraw your fingers, you grab his shoulder and urge him down. He catches on quickly. And eagerly. 

V drops quick, the sounds on his knees hitting the shower floor sounding almost painful but it brings no reaction from the man at your feet. No, he’s busy kissing the tip of your dick, licking down the length of it and just inhaling your scent. 

His nose presses against your pelvis, buried in the coarse hair there. He’s got your dick pressed against his cheek, working his hand along the other side of your dick. He looks good like that. Wanting nothing more than your cock down his throat.

You tangle your clean hand in his hair and ease him away from your pelvis back to the tip of your dick. “C’mon, baby. Got you off. Think it’s only fair if you return the favor, yeah?” 

V nods, lips already parting to let you set your dick between them. You don’t push in just yet, smearing precum across his lips where he fights the urge to lick it up. 

The moment you ease the grip in his hair, he takes you halfway down. You curse low in your throat and your hips jerk forward, forcing another inch into V’s mouth. He moans lewdly around you, the vibrations sending a pleasant ripple up your spine. 

A quiet sigh leaves your lips as V stills, waiting for permission to continue. You grant it to him with a simple nod. 

Propping one hand on your thigh and the other on the ground in front of him, V eases the rest of your dick into his mouth until his nose is buried in your pubes again. Tears prick at his waterline as he fights the urge to gag but he holds himself there, forcing himself to breathe through his nose. 

V always took pleasure in having you fill him out. Whether that be his ass or his throat. Loved being full of you. 

You clean your soiled hand under the shower spray and then comb both of them through his hair as he cockwarms you. You can feel him swallow around you a couple times, like he was trying to urge you deeper despite your balls already resting against his chin. 

“Like being full, don’t’cha?” 

“Mmhmm.” V does his best to nod with you buried in his throat. Makes it even better by shifting to look up at you through his lashes. Big green doe eyes peer up at you, cloudy with tears and pupils blown way out. 

He’s cute. Not that you’d ever say it with his mouth on your dick. You’ve seen him bite Johnny for saying it before. 

You’re the one that draws your hips back. V doesn’t chase them. He lets you pull halfway out and relaxes his mouth to let you push back in. He swallows audibly as you slip back  down his throat. 

You do that a couple times, easing him into it. The hands in his hair guide him in rhythm and, when you stop your hips, V is left happily bobbing along your length. He’s hard again, cock twitching in the warm air of the shower though he’s not touched himself yet. 

V’s tongue curls against the underside of your dick, cheeks hollowing with every plunge of your dick down his throat. Your hand barely guides him as you’re too busy relishing in the feel of his mouth. Every swallow, every little puffy whine makes you groan in turn. 

He was an excellent cocksucker. Maybe not as good as Kerry, but then again, who was? V was pretty damn close though. Eager and messy. The bits of drool and slobber that escape his lips are washed away by stray water. A shame. You liked to see him messy when he finished blowing you. 

“Always been a good cocksucker,” you praise quietly, widening your stance and propping yourself against the wall with one hand. V knows what’s coming and he braces himself with both hands on the floor. The grip in his hair tightens, effectively holding him still. 

You give him a second to prepare before you slam your hips forward. V gags, chokes but doesn’t reach up to stop you. “Want it?” 

V moans wantonly around you. It’s the only answer he can give you and it’s the one you were looking for. You don’t last long fucking his face, feeling his throat convulse around you with every thrust in, so eager to accept whatever you’re gonna give him. 

You balls slap against his chin one last time before you cup the back of his head and hold him down so you can come right down his throat. You feel him cough and sputter more than you hear it. 

And you feel him jerk forward, hands finding your thighs to stay upright as he finds his second release. You feel it paint the inside of your calf and you know more hit the shower tiles. 

V stays on your dick even after you let him go. He makes sure to swallow as much as he can before he pulls off and looks up at you. What a sight he makes. 

He’s grinning, cockdrunk but so happy. There’s some extra spend dripping from the corners of his mouth and his nose but he’d managed to swallow most of it. Even opens his mouth to show you without you having to tell him. The act gets him a nice pet from you with some murmured praise. 

You help him up off the floor, holding onto him as his legs tremble again. He leans into you, nuzzling into your cheek until you turn your head to kiss him. Obviously, he tastes like you. Your tongue catches the corner of his mouth and brings a bit more of your spend with it. V doesn’t care. And neither do you. 

“Thank you,” V rasps when you break the kiss. You’d wind up giving his neck a nice massage tonight. Part in apology and part in thanks for letting you use his mouth like that. 

You smile at him and press another kiss to his crown. “Can’t believe you came like that.”

V groans. Though the sound turns into a pleased sigh when you pull him under the shower head to finally wash off. It was rare V came untouched like that. You’d been dating him long enough to have pulled it out a handful of times but even then, the total amount could be counted on two hands. 

“Felt really good,” V mumbles as you wipe cum from his face. “Liked it.”

“Can tell,” you tease back. “Did good, V. Proud of you.”

It brings a smile to V’s face and, subsequently, your own. You continue to help V wash and he helps you once he’s come down and stopped shaking. 

Once clean and out of the shower, you dress and collect V’s soiled pants in a plastic bag to clean later. V cleans the piss smear his pants had left and then you both head out to clean your car together. 

“Next time, we should do it somewhere that won’t be such a pain to clean,” V mumbles as he tosses the third soiled towel on the gravel next to your car. 

He’s leaned in through the passenger side door while you’re kneeled in the driver's seat and hunched over the center console. “Next time, huh?” You chuckle quietly. 

V huffs and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, next time.” And then, a little quieter like he was too shy to fully commit, “Really enjoyed it.”

You reach out and ruffle his hair a bit, giving him a smile. “We’ll do it somewhere easy to clean then.” 

The smile is returned and V leans in a bit more to give you a kiss. His nose scrunches when he pulls back and he gags off to the side. “Your car is gonna smell like piss for days.”

“I’ll take it to a cleaner when we get back.”

[burekstation]

Something I noticed about Jonathan and Mina during the Aug. 11-13 period.

Jonathan is described as extremely gentle and sweet, so much it made all the nuns love him. They could have praised his resilience and strength to survive whatever ordeal he's seemingly fought his way out of, but that's not what is notable about him to them. He is described as now bedbound. He's waiting, static, vulnerable, gathering his strength. He's silent: He's not writing anymore, someone else did it for him, and the letter wasn't only his own words.

Mina, unlike Jonathan right now, is being active, moving, doing. She's gentle with Lucy, but the one who is being described as gentle and sweet is Lucy, not her. She takes long walks both with her friend and all by herself, and practicing her skills. She runs great distances, gallantly chases a great shadow away, spooks a bat. She has a voice: writing down her thoughts and the events she participates in.

[mewpathy]

FINALLY. THE REASON WHY I MADE THIS SIDE BLOG. HER.

Been having a TON of brainrot from TOH again and my old mlp next gen habits kicked in sooooo... yeag

More ab her under the cut bc WOOOO BOY i have SO MANY THOUGHTS ON HER

So! I think I should begin with just the fact that she is, for lack of a better term, a anomaly. Grimwalkers have never been recorded to reproduce- on top of her being a weird mixture of not really human and not really witch... Uncanny valley for both species yk?

Hunter and Luz were in their mid-20s when Luz got pregnant with Lunala,, which was a shock for both. More Hunter than Luz lmao she was cruising. At the time the two had just started up a cultural exchange of sorts with the human realm so on top of the stress of new baby... yeah it was a time.. Doesn't help that halfway through Luz's body was like- smth,, smth aint right and so while not on bedrest, she did have to tone down her activities and now, with medicine advancing, many theorize that the left over Titan magic in her is the only reason she survived.

Then out popped Lunala! Lil freak of a girl. Hunter cussed out the fact hes a clone bc bby girl gots her wack goofy ahh cousin(?)s blue eyes- Phillips last F u lol- the yellow from Mama only started coming out when she turned 4-ish. On top of that, she got the staple four digits with pawpads all Grimwalkers have and EXTREMELY horrible equilibrium and thermoregulating ability. She is bundled up 24/7 and cant walk without her cane. Messed up gal.

Due to the irregularities of magic during her formation her bile sac cannot filter magic properly- some days she'll be equal to a fully grown witch and others she'll be bedbound due to her own bile sac essentially leaking the excess out of her when a usual one would get rid of the "used up" magic via normal ways- another reason why she uses her cane. On top of this, the excess magic (if she hasn't used any in a while) starts to drip out of her mouth, being almost acidic. A fine line she has to walk between literally spewing acid and being poisoned by her own body. She survives tho! Also her teeth too big for her gotdamn mouth,, queen of braces

BUT OH HO HO. THIS DOES NOT STOP HER FROM BEING A LIL CREECHER. A GOOFBALL. A MENACE. She looks /TERRIFYING/ when happy/scheming but genuinely means well- taking her Mama's words to heart- "It becomes bullying when no one but yourself is having fun" and essentially tries to make others laugh/be in a good mood,, unfortunately a lot of people find her to be unnerving- only really finding a few good friends in Ophelia- Willow and Amity's adopted daughter-, King, Collector, and a school friend Ricardo- a human on the Boiling Isles via the cultural exchange program.

Outside of other's around her age, she gets along with her parents and family wonderfully! Lunala can be very quiet when she wants too and has found a particular gift for essentially reading people and being able to help them- magical therapist if you will. On top of exploring the human realm with her Auntie Vee (Who has become a cross country explorer and nature conservationist), she has a hell of a time helping her Dad practice for his games or his most recent pailsman carving, or helping her Mama document the entirety of the Boiling Isles or be a proof reader for her Mama's books. Fun stuff!

Her pailsman- Manny- is named after Luz's dad, after seeing pictures her Abuela left out. Manny and Lunala are two peas in a pod- with both being seen as unnerving. On top of that, Manny being a King Cobra gives a slight hint to Lunala's... less than spectacular anger. She doesn't get angry often but when she does her bile sac works overtime with the amount of adrenaline she gets from her anger, which, of course, leads to the acidic overspill and very... unsightly view.

As she gets older, and learns to control her anger more, she'll become a terrifying politician both in the Boiling Isles and in the human realm and hobbyist child psychologist.

ANYWAY ITS MIDNIGHT AND I GOTS SCHOOL BYE HOPW YALL ENJOY THIS RANT

[butchtheworld]

seth's disability guide: being bedbound

people really liked my last post about crip tips, so here's more. what you're able to do while bedbound will really depend on where you're at physically - doing more, doing less, etc. will all be different. so, these are just what got me through ~a year of being stuck in bed for 18 hours of the day.

have a hobby that doesn't involve looking at a screen. i cannot overstate how important this is - if you're usually writing/gaming/watching shows/scrolling, you are going to get into a rut and probably also a migraine. i latched onto crocheting and reading.

lap desks are your savior. aside from the practical use of not having everything on your lap, i found that lap desks offer a sort of mental differentiation between 'work zone' and 'sleep zone' even if it's all your bed.

showering. this one depends a lot on your health and energy levels, but showering was always super helpful to me. at the end of the day, i would drag myself to the bathroom, sit on my shower stool, and wash everything off from the day. this was another thing that helped me differentiate from 'work' and 'sleep.'

stretching when you can. even if it's small (wiggling your toes, stretching your arms up, rolling your neck from side to side), moving in small ways will help you keep in touch with your body and keep moving forward.

mix in fresh food. lettuce, apples, oranges, cucumbers, peppers, whatever. it was always easier for me to eat processed foods, and those are definitely worthwhile. but, you need to mix in fresh foods too. even if you're not doing a whole gourmet salad, eating a fresh vegetable will feel good.

keep your usual things. i hated having my schedule out of normal, so i incorporated my schedule into what i needed then. i still had my morning coffee, still watched a movie most nights, still did my assignments for a few hours after school let out.

CHANGE YOUR SHEETS! i always needed help doing this (changing sheets is still a huge exertion of energy for me, months out of being bedbound), but having fresh sheets is crucial. your skin, body, and mind will thank you.

[perryavenue]

rainjoy Has A New Post. It's Personal

rainjoy is one of my favorite Klaine fanfic authors. Their first Klaine fanfic was published on LiveJournal in 2011, their last in 2021. Health issues have become more intense over time. Their most famous works, All The Other Ghosts and Grey, were published in 2012 and 2013. So those who've joined the fandom fairly recently may not even know about their other fics, the most recent one being from 2021. rainjoy has written Klaine in every genre: high school!Klaine, college!Klaine, married!Klaine, supernatural!Klaine, fantasy!Klaine, and even superhero!Klaine.

Here is a link to rainjoy's works on Live Journal

Here's a link for Dreamwidth

I hope that you'll help boost it by re-blogging. Thanks in advance, @klaineccfanficlibrary and @todaydreambelieversfic

This is rainjoy's post from today (October 27, 2023).

"Hello, I’m still alive.

Hello, I do mean it, hello anybody around to see this, I really hope you’ve been well, I’m sorry I haven’t been around, I *haven’t* been well. But I have, over a course of fucking months, actually written something, so I’m writing *this* here so I don’t need to leave a novel-length author’s note on it, as some kind of explanation of where I’ve been.

Largely, I’ve been in bed, I’m likely going there again after posting this, they need to invent new words for how tired I am so much of the time, my upgraded wheelchair is worth about as much as my *laptop*, my life revolves around Can I? Probably not. and lots and lots and lots of ‘resting’. I’ve not been well, but please don’t worry, I’ve not been unhappy. This is the golden age of being ill, the sheer quantity of stuff out there to amuse the bedbound – I have books and podcasts, all of Netflix, I practically live on Sky: Children of the Light, when I’m too dopey even for that I have Animal Crossing, when I am genuinely such a puddle of not-human lethargy that all I need is for time to pass until I feel just slightly better again I have videos of other people playing video games on YouTube and I’m sorry my darling baby moths I will pick you up and help you every single time but it will never not be funny watching someone go through Eden for the first time on YouTube, it just never will not make me laugh, oh my gods I’m so *sorry* my loves <3

So anyway, there’s all that, that’s where I’ve been, life really does not work out the way you planned it to, huh? Because outside of my bed, I know I have messages and emails and someone got a tattoo?? You got a tattoo and I’m just really sorry I haven’t been in touch, my energy has to be paid out like a miser, if I want to wash my hair then wow the world is really not getting anything else out of me, you know? But I am still here, and I do still love the things I love. I still think all of it is worth it. I think the world is a *lot* of fun, though I bear in mind that still, and always, we live through very frightening and distressing times. Which actually makes me think we need to cling to the things we love *more*, not less, love makes better people of us, when we let it.

So I did watch the new season of Good Omens when it came out, and safe to say I was not impressed, but it did jog in me the memory that didn’t I write a sequel to it? Yes I did, and it involved *all* that blood. But I reread it – it’s like reading a stranger’s writing after so long – and that jogged the memory: Didn’t you start a sequel to *this*?

Yes I did! Two thirds written, actually, hurrah for my past self. The last third took, I don’t know, when did the new season come out, it took that long. I used to sneeze out this sort of thing. This, now, is getting at my arms, it’ll be another lie down soon. But anyway, the point of all this: I live yet. In the next few days I *hope* I will be formatting and posting a sequel to But Thou Readst Black because of course everyone wants *that* back in their heads again, my gods. And I hope hope hope you’ve been well, I do think of people while I’m stuck doing nothing but pooling my brain out of my ears on YouTube. Look after yourselves, take care of each other, my gods you tattooed yourself I mean more power to you but it alarms me when things I make turn out to be *permanent*, you know? It feels like I barely touch the world anymore, my circumference has become so small, but it makes the world seem only more precious. Take good care of it, and of yourself as part of it. And very, very much love, to anyone remaining to see this, much love <3"

[starfragment1979]

I've been working on that fanfic, the one that was supposed to be fluff-n-smut, but the more I write the more plot starts creeping in, and just a liiitle bit of conflict. I was telling my spouse about this, and they joked that I just can't stop myself from writing a well rounded story, ha.

It's also turning out to be longer than I had anticipated, because of course it is. I had four scenes in mind, and I was going to post them as separate chapters just for ease of reading, but I was also going to post the whole thing at once because I didn't think it would be that long. But I just finished chapter one last week and it's 10k words, and if each chapter plays out the same way, 40k is kind of a lot of fluff-n-smut with some bonus plot and conflict. I'll probably still post it all at once, though, once it's done.

But, oh, friends, it is going so slow. I have been struggling with health stuff since early November... I thought at first it was just election stress, but after a while I started assuming I must've somehow gotten sick with a virus. My normal, everyday symptoms for years now include things like body aches and fatigue and sore throat and congestion and shortness of breath etc etc etc, which means it's so hard to tell the difference between just another flare up and being sick with something new, so I never even thought to test for covid until it was too late. I guess it doesn't matter now.

But I have been stuck in bed all day and exhausted and in pain and either not sleeping or sleeping like the dead and having nightmares every night and my brain is so sludgy that it takes superhuman strength to wrestle words out of it. Like it takes me fifteen minutes to write a sentence and then when I reread it I realized I already used half the words in the previous paragraph which I wrote the day before. I do have random better days where writing comes a little easier, and the story itself is clear in my head, I'm just struggling to find the words to convey it. But this one is gonna need some more substantial line editing when I'm all done writing, I think.

And just to be clear, I am writing these stories for myself. Like I do absolutely love the kudos and comments and the occasional Tumblr post or whatever, and I'll admit to regularly refreshing my stats page to see if I got more hits. But if I was just in this for the accolades, I'd go find a more active fandom.

I'm writing these stories because I love the characters and the lives and the world I've created for them. But also the act of writing itself is so vital to me feeling like a human being, and especially now as I'm increasingly bedbound and can't really access visual arts or craft projects, writing is one of the only ways I can practice creativity. I have lost so much to this illness, and I don't want to lose writing and stories and art, too, even if it's a struggle, even if I'm using more energy than I can afford to do it.

I don't know how to express how vital writing and creativity is to my mental health without this whole post coming across as a pity party. Every now and then, when I'm having a bad day or a string of bad days, I'll start to think, "Maybe this should be my last story, maybe I shouldn't be doing this anymore." But I don't like to think about what my life would be like without writing, and I don't want to lose that last little shred of humanity.

And whenever I start to think I should quit, I also wind up thinking up another story I want to write, and I wind up wanting it badly enough that I decide to keep going for just one more story. And then one more. And on it goes.

I've actually got the next story I want to write fully fleshed out in my head, like scene-for-scene, a lot of the prose and dialogue clear in my mind. It'll be a one shot where Flick has a medical issue, panics about it, and CJ helps take care of him. (I know, I know... it's not my exact medical issues, but there probably is some projecting going on here, lol.) And it's all so clear in my head that I'm tempted to take a break from my current story and write that one instead, to strike while the iron is hot, because maybe it's also easier for me to write angst than it is to write sex, ha. But I also think it's probably better for me to save it for later, so that I have some future plans and something to look forward to, to use my own stories as a life raft for myself.

[raptorfae53]

Ever After High Reimagined: Ashlynn Ella Redesign/Character Bio.

Ashlynn Ella

Trans Girl (She/Her)

Daughter of Cinderella (Canadian)

Industrious and driven, always repairing or cleaning things and with an intrinsic need to feel useful, Ashlynn is an unorthodox princess compared to her friends, happiest whiling away at projects on her sewing machine or helping her family's servants with chores. This toeing-the-line of destiny as the next Cinderella extends to her love life, being madly in love with Hunter Huntsmann as opposed to any kind of prince, a fact both must keep tight-lipped in order to not be found out and separated, between that and the future destiny-based implosion of her family into a “proper” Cinderella tale, what is she to do?

Likes: Being with hunter, repairing things, helping people out, shoes and sexy lumberjack memorabilia

Dislikes: letting people down,not being busy, leaving tasks or projects unfinished, fast fashion and princessology class.

Spellbinding Style: Practical yet pretty. Ashlynn prefers dungarees and pinafores,often personally embroidered with beautiful,intricate threadwork to more traditional princess fare. For what it's worth, ashlynns shoe collection consists of a wide variety of footwear for any occasion.

Companion creature: Sandella the Firebird. A family of Firebirds have nested on the roof of the Ella's castle for generations now, but as much as she loves animals ashlynn can't help but look at the birds,including the one considered “hers”, as a living symbol of the cyclical nature of her destiny,harbingers of fortune,rebirth, and doom…

Hexworthy vex: Cute shoes that aren't in her size. Like many transfemme girls ashlynn has big feet so the cute shoes that may handily fit Apple or Briar won't fit on her, and while being a princess she can readily afford custom shoes, Ashlynn instead prefers to make or modify her own,both for personal use and for others who might want them.

“Oh Curses” moment: Overexerting herself. Ashlynn is a caring person and a physically hard worker, always trying to be on top of schoolwork and chores alike, the problem comes when folks take advantage of her helpful nature or ashlynn takes on too big a workload, working deep into the night on little sleep as to make a deadline and not let her client down to her own detriment.

Storied Secret: Ashlynn loves hunter with all her heart, but by grimm his haircut is awful. Of course she's never told him it sucks and never intends to, it'd break his heart…

Deepest wish: To simply be with Hunter, openly and unafraid to love the boy she loves in public, even to the point of eschewing her destined prince, and her destiny as a result…

Five Fantastical Facts:

Ashlynn lives with her mother,who has been suffering with an illness that leaves her bedbound most days, her mothers majordomo and her two daughters, the stepmother and stepsisters of her story. Whilst an unconventional cast for a Cinderella, considering that Ashlynns father died when she was a toddler there wasn't really any other option, the “big” stories like hers are pretty strict in regards to gender roles…

Ashlynns relationship with said sisters is…rockier than she would like. Whilst it's true that they are unfairly looked down on by most for not being “true” stepsisters on top of their villainous destiny, the girls tend to take out all their frustration through acting petulant towards ashlynn or feeding their shopping addiction for the latest outrageous fashions and accessories. Ashlynn understands their frustration but does wish sometimes they were a bit less avaricious, though her protests are usually taken as jealous busybodying in turn.

Ashlynn has legendarily poor time blindness despite her best (usually poor) efforts,often being late for events because she just has to get this last thing done before she goes Briar! Only for the hours to go by quick amongst a myriad of said “last things” and Ashlynn to decide its too late to be going to any balls or parties, much to her more party-inclined friend's usual understanding irritation.

Generations of magic buildup have developed into an…irritating curse for poor ashlynn, wherein if she's late to anything on the hour her outfit deteriorates into a scruffier,raggedy look, between interrupting lessons and destroying the patterns ashlynn sewed onto her outfits it really gets to her, leaving her with more work to do on said outfits in the aftermath…

Despite her best efforts and intent, Ashlynn is an absolutely awful cook,as in “can burn water” bad.

Week 3's Royal entry to this series is Ashlynn, the Industrious, helpful future Cinderella and the secret lover of Hunter Huntsman. I hope you like this weeks profile pair and I hope you'll be around next week for the following two...

Further information and thoughts down below:

I've made mention that both of the previous rebels, Apple and Briar deep down are terrified, unfortunately Ashlynn is no different, I'd even beget she's even worse.

Ashlynn isn't just terrified for her own fate but the fate of everyone in her house, her biomother, destined to die before Ashlynn even reaches adulthood, her stepmother and sisters, who will humiliate and eventually mutilate themselves and even the servants in her home, all dismissed for her solitary help, all for a prince she probably won't even prefer over Hunter.

Ashlynn has a very big heart and a selfless work ethic, and that love extends even to the people who her destiny insists aren't important, her empathy and worry for all being why she's unwilling to throw in with the Rebels like her boyfriend despite agreeing deep down with much of their ethos.

(This is partly the reason why she hasn't much courage to stand up to Apple's plans despite being the most ostensibly sensible of the core royals and most likely to appeal otherwise, she's terrified of the possible consequences that come with defiance...)

She doesn't want to get any of them hurt, in absence or by consequence... (again, Ashlynns family doesn't really trust grimm, a running theme as we'll see...)

[tolbachik-art]

How does one become good at drawing planets

Hey, thank you so much for the kind words & the question!

I'm still definitely a beginner, and have a long way to go, but it really warms my heart to hear you say that. For starters, getting over any perfectionism you may have is a big must!

I know a lot of people always say this, but practice, time, patience, doing studies, and having fun are the most important ways to get better!

I'll walk you through my progress, and what I've done to get where I am today with things! I will warn you, it did turn out to be a long winded post. If you want the jist of it, you can scroll to the bottom!

So, I've been doing digital art since say, mid 2015 or so. I didn't have much of a grasp on art, and while I grew up loving space and space exploration, I didn't quite understand how things worked.

On August 2nd, 2015 (when I was just 15), I posted my first piece on DeviantArt.

This was my first foray into space art. It may not be the best, but I remember being very excited about it, and actually making a piece like that.

This first piece is a big sign of what issues I would face with space art until very recently; a lack of detailing, leading to a soft appearance.

This would plague me for quite some time; I would put very little effort into detailing, and wouldn't even zoom in on the canvas for quite some time. I would do things from afar, not wanting to zoom in for some weird reason. This can be seen in the following paintings, as well.

This one, also of Neptune, was posted two years after the first one. The framework is kind of there, but only barely. The perspective is off, and once again, the detailing is too minimal and too soft. On top of that, the shading isn't nearly as harsh enough. Compositionally though, I was starting to get a grasp of some basics.

There would be a brief artless period in my life from 2017 to 2020; every once in awhile, I wouldn't do art for a few years. Then, suddenly, I would get back into it and put out several pieces, all before growing quiet once more.

2020, once Covid-19 started happening, would see the return of me to the world of art now that I was suddenly without a job.

Once again, Neptune will be a demonstrator of how my skills changed.

I was starting to get there; in terms of composition, much better than my older works. Coloring is a bit off, but overall, I was starting to actually understand how art works, and why things like detailing were important. One big thing here though; I was still painting with color. That would be one of the last big things for me to get over, although I didn't even know it then.

From the period of 2020-2021, I made a lot of paintings and mission patches for my one friend's KSP youtube series (seen here).

Doing what were essentially mini paintings, I learned a *lot* about composition and detailing. I think the one I spent the longest on was Heywood, in which I did my best to follow imagery from Voyager. Looking back now, however, it isn't quite accurate; that's the south pole! I still had a lot to learn in regards to doing accurate portrayals of celestial bodies, down to inclinations and the like.

Anyways, doing all that really burnt me out, on top of doing free art for people I didn't even know. That's another big lesson; only do gift art if you feel up to it, and for a friend. Do not do it for strangers.

It wasn't until late 2022, in September, that I actually finished a piece again. My illness had been pretty bad, leaving me bedbound for quite some time. However, during that time, I hadn't lost my skills thankfully.

This would be one of my first somewhat decent portrayals of Jupiter and one of his moons, using SpaceEngine for getting reference images and making sure all the parts were in the right place. This would set the groundwork for later paintings, as I always use SpaceEngine now to make sure I have the orientations and sizes of things in the sky right! It's been an invaluable tool, I quite literally don't know where I'd be without it.

Anyways; after that, it was very sparse once more, up until quite literally this year. Sickness sprung up again, and I had a rough winter due to the loss of my grandfather to Covid-19, among other things.

2024 saw, in my personal opinion, the biggest and best change to my art yet.

PAINTING IN VALUES!!!!!!!!!

I cannot stress this enough; understanding what values are, and how to see them in every day life literally changed my entire perspective on things. On life! I cannot go outside anymore without comparing and contrasting values of objects and natural phenomena.

This was before values. Not bad, but still not great. Detailing was getting there. This is from March 27th, 2024, and was part of an art trade with @dan-asd of their worldbuilding project.

And this, this is 3 months later, from July 16th, 2024. Commission for @corvidist, my very first. This was a massive leap in the way I understood and processed the world around me, and in turn, what my art looked like.

Everything is in values. Your phone, with the seemingly pure black LCD touchscreen to the blue and purple phone case. The clouds, with their bright white tops and dark bottoms. The river, with the murky green waters contrasting with the bright orange stones. All values, just differing shades of gray with color added! Everything is light! Everything is the absence of light! Light is the entirety of your piece; you just have to understand where light falls, and where it doesn't.

Apart from that, everything is just rudimentary shapes and lines. The universe is made up of different kinds of lines and shapes. Entire worlds can be reduced to light and lines, people can be too. You just need to know what to look for, and how to process that into artwork.

I cannot stress how much understanding that, and doing tiny little paintings really helped me get a much better grasp on things.

Take some time, get a small canvas out, and paint your favorite celestial body. Take as much or as little time as you need, and just have fun with it. Play with color, play with values, whatever your heart desires!

Once you're done, take a step back, and compare it to the picture. Analyze what areas you didn't enjoy, and what areas you did. Look for what doesn't line up with the picture, and think of how you could better approach it. Think of how you can change the lighting to make it seem more real, what effects are needed to bring it to life.

Art is the process of taking what you love, and putting it to paper (digital or not!). Focus on what you enjoy doing; it will all come naturally with time. You'll start to pick up on things, big and small, that will bring your pieces closer and closer to what you want it to be.

And please, for the love of everything that is holy, have fun with it and don't overthink it! You will be so disappointed in yourself if you hype yourself up for a piece, only for it to come out not the way you expected. That's ok! That's part of learning! It can be disheartening, but if you take the time to look at how and why you don't like the piece, it'll come out so much better next time around!

Talk to people, too! Talking with my dear email-pal Eduardo was my first step into understanding astronomical art, and thinking on how to improve my work. He really helped me step into the right direction when I was just starting out, which I am still eternally grateful for to this day. I think of him and his work often; he really was a massive help.

In more recent times, talking to @whirligig-girl helped me to get a better grip on realism, and how better to portray celestial bodies. She was a huge help in giving me pointers for fixing up my View From Amalthea piece, as well as the ones that followed after. Talking to artists more experienced than you and getting critiques is always a huge help; it can really show you things in a new light!

Speaking of, don't be afraid to let a piece rest and marinate for a bit. A day, a week, or even a year. It doesn't matter. You will come back to it, and you will see new things you never saw before, and think of new ways to improve upon it. I have a piece that's been in limbo for YEARS, and I still have yet to actually get to paint it (the top one, the alien one (i will never finish that Uranus piece though lol)). I have it perfectly envisioned now, so waiting really did pay off in the end.

Essentially, it all boils down to this:

Everything is light, or lack thereof.

Don't overthink it, and have fun.

Do not do free art for strangers.

Everything is shapes and lines.

Step back and look at your pieces, deconstructing them in your mind or on paper.

Examine your everyday life, and see how everything interacts in terms of values and color.

Do studies, please god, do studies they're so fun and eyeopening

Warmup! Warm! Up! WARMUP!!!!! They are critical to getting your mind in the art headspace! You will feel less interested and less focused otherwise!

Don't worry about your medium, just do what you enjoy and works best for you! There is no such thing as a perfect brush!

Talk to other artists in fields you enjoy!

I love talking about art, I really could go on for hours, but I will stop myself here.

You decide what you get out of art; it's your skill, your time, so do what you desire! These are only anecdotes about my experiences with art; they aren't universal, but I do hope they've helped. If you have any questions, any questions at all, don't hesitate to reach out!

Lastly, here are two resources for you for any future artworks you may do:

I got this book many years ago, but the lessons it gave me were invaluable. I mean it; they helped me to understand the importance of doing studies, and for detailing!

Paid membership, but an organization dedicated to doing astronomical art. I have yet to join, but I've heard lovely things about it! Hoping to join later this year, funds allowing.

I will finally end this here. Thank you so much for the ask, and I hope you have a lovely rest of your day!

[inwintersolitude]

- May 8th 2025 -

What's for dinner tonight? I made steak alfredo and roasted broccoli.

Do you prefer cold or room temperature drinking water? Room temperature. And sometimes I drink it warm in the wintertime. I fill up my kettle and set it to the lowest "keep warm" setting.

How many different things have you had to drink today? Three. Water, Irish breakfast tea, and sugar-free electrolyte drink mix.

When you read a book, do you use a bookmark or simply dog ear/fold the top of the page? I use a bookmark.

What's the nearest city to you with a population of at least one million? Toronto. Well, that's if we're counting just the city itself and not the entire metro area. The Cleveland metro area has about 2 million, but only about 360,000 within Cleveland city limits.

During the pandemic, did you use reusable or disposable masks? A mix of both. And I still use masks during flu/cold season, because ever since I had covid last summer, being sick makes my resting heart rate go up to like 160 BPM and I'm practically bedbound. I use the N95 ones, which are disposable, but I use them multiple times and hang them up to air out between uses.

What is your favourite local restaurant? There's a farm-to-table restaurant that's really good. Also a Lebanese place with the BEST garlic toum sauce I've ever had. There are lots of other good restaurants and cafes here but those two are my favorites.

Have you ever been harassed while minding your own business walking down the street? Not that I can remember.

Do you own a gun? Have you ever thought about getting one? No.

Do you know anyone who owns a gun? Yes, I have a friend who hunts deer and elk for most of his meat.

What year is/was your 10 year high school reunion? Will you (or did you) attend? It was in 2018, but I didn't go. I was living a 7-hour drive away from my hometown at the time.

Do you cut your sandwiches into triangles or rectangles? It depends on the type of sandwich and the shape of the bread slices that I'm using.

Have you ever seen a panda in real life? Where was it? Yep, at zoos.

Are there any postcards hanging around the house? If so, where are they from? I might have a few that were sent to me by family.

Does it snow where you live? Yes, we get an average snowfall of about 4 feet total every winter.

When was the last time you took a flight? Where did you go? About 6 weeks ago. My husband and I flew down to San Antonio to go to a friend's wedding, then we flew to Washington DC and drove to Wilmington to visit my Granny.

Is there a flight path over your house? Yes, there's a STAR (Standard Terminal Arrival) into CLE. My husband sometimes flies this route over our house on his last flight of a trip, if he's coming from the south. I never flew into CLE when I was a pilot, though, so I haven't flown on that STAR.

Does your neighbourhood have a lot of hills? Not really.

Have you ever had covid? What was your experience like? Yes, once. I managed to avoid it til June 2024. I was very sick for well over a week, lost my sense of taste/smell for a few days, ended up with a sinus infection, and it made my POTS worse. It's 11 months later and I still don't feel fully recovered. My tachycardia and chest tightness/breathlessness are definitely bit worse now.

Do you have any alcohol in your house right now? Yep, we still have a bottle of champagne that we received as a housewarming gift from our realtor, over a year ago haha.

Do you tend to keep alcohol around the house for when you might want it? Not usually. My husband and I rarely drink.

Has a romantic partner ever given you a pet as a gift? No, he would never do that. We'd never get a pet without discussing it together beforehand.

Do you ever talk on the phone with friends? Sometimes with Cory.

What was the last thing someone said to you in person? My husband was telling me goodbye before he left for his flights.

Are you hungry right now? What would you like to eat? Nope.

How far away are your parents right now? They live about 30 miles away.

Do you believe in aliens? Yes. There are trillions upon trillions of other planets in the universe. It's pretty much a statistical impossibility for Earth to be the ONLY planet that harbors life.

Have you ever been bitten by a spider? Nope.

Do you own any clothing made from animal products like leather or fur? Not clothing, but I do have some leather watch bands and leather bags.

What's the best vacation you've ever been on? My husband and I went to London for our 6th wedding anniversary and it was amazing. I could spend several months there and still not see everything I'd want to see.

[anony-man]

Chubformers drabble #54!

Character: Knock Out (TFP)

Word count: 612

Vanity was, above all, the highest priority. In his state, however, Knock Out was finding it increasingly more difficult to adhere to the strict standards he’d set for himself from day one.

Indulgence had its advantages, of course, and Knock Out was hardly ashamed of his new size. How could he be when it brought so much excitement to the bedroom? It certainly had its perks, and Knock Out was grateful to have finally gotten the chance to admit to his less-than-perfect ideas and fetishes in the comfort of their berthroom.

Those advantages came to an end when Breakdown wasn’t around to help, though. Knock Out had been straining to reach the space between his shoulder plating for what felt like hours, his chubby arms strained and his pudgy face flush with exertion. With every grunt of effort and heave of his servo over a shoulder, he could feel his belly spilling out and his pedes lifting up off the ground from under the massive rolls of flab that covered them.

So close… but still not quite enough.

“Slag,” Knock Out snarled, having given up for the time being.

He needed to catch his breath, and he needed a quick break. He didn’t want to risk fainting from attempting to buff out the scuffs on plating that was too far out of reach. That was pathetic, and Knock Out didn’t do pathetic. Not at this size, at least.

Knock Out let his arms hang by his side, too tired to hold them up over the mass of his gut any longer. As he puffed for breath and cooled his systems, he began considering his options. Calling for assistance for something like this was iffy, after all.

The Vehicons, known for their perverse tendencies during routine checkups that more often than not landed them in Knock Out’s medibay for weeks at a time, were a very hard pass. Knock Out didn’t have the energy to go about snapping at roaming servos and groping fingers anymore. He could just as easily ask Starscream, but the envious stares masked behind dramatic scowls of disgust got on his nerves rather quickly. Truly, it seemed, there wasn’t a good solution.

Unless…

Just as Knock Out prepared himself for the arduous task of waddling to the communications console in the medibay, the doors to his clinic opened with a hiss. Breakdown, buff and beaming and sweaty from a long day in the heat, beautiful wonderful Breakdown, strode into the room with an ever widening smile. Knock Out could feel himself smiling in return, despite his efforts at concealing the excessive excitement. Oh, he just couldn’t help it though—Breakdown’s return from duties in the evenings was the moment Knock Out always looked forward to.

“There you are, big guy,” Knock Out said, tilting his helm up to meet Breakdown as the Wrecker leaned in for a kiss. Before things could get too heated, Knock Out broke free. “Someone’s excited, huh?”

“You know it,” Breakdown said, his servos already pinching the soft folds of Knock Out’s belly. His gaze quickly caught sight of the forgotten buffer in Knock Out’s grasp, and he added, “need a little help?”

“Please,” Knock Out said with a groan. “My back, if you will?”

Keeping up appearances at this size was bound to be a challenge, but Knock Out hardly missed a single step in his self-care routine when Breakdown was around. Oh, how grateful he was for his doting conjux’s help. He was practically bedbound now, of course, and hardly able to care for himself alone anymore, but it was nothing a buffer and the Wrecker’s set of strong, steady servos couldn’t fix.