#And it’s not like I’ve lost any energy; if anything I’ve gained some energy

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

You’d think that with all this bike riding and lifting children off the floor that I’d be even more hungry, but no; I have the appetite of a little tiny bird???? The fuck

I don’t like it

[evergreen-femme]

edgy vent writing cw: suicide

i think about the corpse i’ll leave behind all the time.  it used to frighten me.  maybe i’ve shot myself in the woods behind my house, and the body is crawling with insects and maybe has already had some of the meat torn off of it.  maybe she finds a fragment of the skull without too much gore attached and keeps it.  i wonder if it would still hurt to be eaten after i’m dead, if the nerves will somehow still be active and i’ll feel thousands of tiny mandibles tearing into me and not be able to do anything about it.  or maybe i did hit a tree head-on and follow through with my intentions.  parts of the body are crushed by the car, completely unrecognizable; there’s a branch piercing the throat and leaves glued to the face with dried blood.  maybe i’m falling into the quiet ocean where the corpse will be buried in the mud and slowly feasted on by crabs and amphipods and worms.  no one would find it there.  i used to feel revulsion when i thought of these things, but now i can think about them with ambivalence and even a level of fascination.  the corpse isn’t mine, the body isn’t mine.  if i died like this, i could return the elements that comprise what’s left of my existence to nature, and there’s a strange comfort in that.

my corpse, the one that belongs to me, is inside of me, and has been for a while now.  it’s a young girl’s body; i don’t know the age, because she had memories i don’t.  this body grew around it like rings on a tree; what’s left of me is cocooned deep within this sarcophagus of flesh, and it is, of course, dead.  maybe i was stillborn, reanimated by my mother’s desire to have a perfect mirror for herself, a kitten to play with, an entity to play the emotional role of her partner, completely bound by the rules that govern infant psychology and development.  i don’t think that i’ve ever been me.  what i see in the mirror isn’t me, and it never has been. 

how do you live when you are a corpse within a walking corpse?  there isn’t anything that excites me, there’s nothing in particular i want to do, the only things i feel are pain, shame, and guilt.  it is difficult for me to get out of bed; sometimes i just don’t.  i can’t do basic tasks without feeling like i’m dropping my brain in a vat of acid.  one day people will lose their patience with me, and the scraps of work i’m able to do won’t be enough anymore, and i’ll lose my income and my home.  i can feel it growing closer.  it’s always crawling closer, inevitable, lurking in every shadow.  i don’t have the energy to resist it anymore.  every effort i’ve ever made has been for nothing.  i’ve never seen personal gain from it in a way that actually spoke to me.  all the ‘gain’ i’ve had from working, working, working, making my life be work, has been worthless gains for the construct of flesh that is sealing me in with no escape.  the gains are the promise of more work of greater difficulty.  i am a young girl who somehow got a last few gasps of air and realized she was alive inside this living tomb, who tried to claw her way out, before realizing that it was impossible.  there is no way to regain what i’ve lost.

i can’t keep going on like this.  my brain won’t cooperate with my attempts to keep the construct functioning enough to keep my life in stasis anymore.  nothing is in stasis anyway, it never was. flesh grows old, breaks down, mutates and warps unrecognizably regardless of whatever is going on in your brain.  i just can’t make it keep going anymore.  i will lose my job.  i have nowhere to go.  there must still be a part of me that’s alive in there, because i don’t want to die, but the pain is too much to bear, and any life i could have will be a fraction of what it should have been, consigned to the margins of society and left to rot and fall apart.  i used to wonder if i would be in the news when i killed myself, but i know i won’t be.  people kill themselves every day, it’s one of the most common causes of death, and nobody cares about another dead tranny.  the world will blink and i’ll be gone and it won’t matter. 

what i need is a love that is impossible, one that i could never reciprocate, because i’m incapable of real love or affection.  i wouldn’t even be able to recognize it if i was getting it; hell, i probably am, i’m just too broken to feel it.  maybe nourishing an ecosystem at the bottom of the sea is what love feels like.

[bellysoupset]

In your last fic, Luke mentioned that it’s bulking season, so I have an idea pertaining to that. I read somewhere that eating right before going to bed is an effective way of gaining weight, but it can also lead to indigestion. Maybe Luke overeats before going to sleep with Bella. He wakes up the next morning still feeling really full and now he’s nauseous. Maybe he tries to hide it from Bella because she warned him about this happening the night before, but he ends up puking and he has to admit she was right

(I love your writing btw, I’ve fallen in love with all of your characters <3)

"No," Bella shook her head, snatching the banana from his hands, "absolutely not, Lucas."

He let out a whine and stretched on the couch, trapping her with his legs and retrieving the banana, "sorry, babe, I need this one more than you do."

"I don't want your puta banana," Bella scoffed, trying to fight him for it, "I just watched you clear four plates of food, Lucas and a weight gain shake. You're literally so stuffed you're breathing wrong. Give me the fucking-"

"Nope," he unpeeled it, ducking his head and belching, "I'm already behind in my weight plan."

"Your weight plan!?" Bella widened her eyes at him, "Luke, you spent half of yesterday's night feeling sick. Stop this, baby, you've eaten-" she scoffed as he gobbled up the banana in three quick bites, "goddammit, Lucas."

"Don't be mad at me," he whined, rubbing his gorged stomach, "it's part of the game, Bells."

"Forgive me if I don't like seeing you feeling sick," Bella cringed, crossing her arms and sitting as far away from him as she could in the couch.

He opted for not saying anything, since any argument he tried surely would only make Bella more pissed. After a minute of heavy silence she let out a sigh and uncrossed her arms, getting up from the couch and stomping away.

Lucas groaned, sliding down on the couch and resting a hand on his stomach. More than a small part of him agreed with Bella. He loved eating, but this was too much. His previous bulking seasons had been harsh, yes, but at least then he didn't have to gain so much.

Now, after two stomach bugs in a row, appendicitis, and the, frankly offensive, amount of weight he had lost during the break up, this one was proving to be particularly hellish. He had gone down two sizes of jeans.

"Here," Bella said, startling him and Luke raised his eyes, puzzled. He had expected her to be sulking in bed. Instead she was holding a glass of water, an antiacid already fizzling inside of it. She still looked plenty pissed off, but there was concern dancing in her eyes, "and come to bed."

"In a bit, I don't think I should lie down right now," Lucas took the glass of water, but didn't let go of her hand, planting a kiss on her fingertips, "thank you, baby."

She rolled her eyes, annoyed still, and pulled her hand from his grasp, only to comb her fingers through his hair, "you can thank me by taking it easier tomorrow," she said strongly, planting a kiss on top of his head, "I'm going to bed."

He knew she was still annoyed, because otherwise she'd have stuck around.

Lucas let her go, sipping on the fizzy water and trying to work up some satisfying burps to ease the tension in his stomach. Eventually, though, the pressure of his belly pressing down on him and the ache in his throat from the acid reflux, started taking its toll. His eyes dropped and Luke yawned, eyeing the short corridor that led to their bedroom. Bella had left the door open, he could see the television light spilling out, but didn't have the energy to get up.

He ended up falling asleep right there.

Only for his alarm to go off at six AM, a room away from him. He woke up with Bella letting out something he could only classify as a growl, sleepily trying to find his phone to turn the alarm off.

"I got it," Lucas said, voice thick with sleep as he stumbled, drunkenly, into their room and patted the bed to find it. She opened one eye, her curls a lion's mane around her head.

"Turn that fucking thing off, Lucas."

"Sorry, sorry-" he finally retrieved it from the mess of blankets and turned off the alarm. 06H05 AM. Bella let out a heavy sigh, turning on the bed so she was facing away from him, "come to bed."

It was so tempting... But he had gym. And then classes from eight to six PM.

"Sorry, baby," Lucas sighed, crawling on the bed so he could plant a kiss on her cheek. She let out a frustrated huff, but didn't bother saying anything else and he got out of the bed, walking to the bathroom.

Normally by morning his dinner had gone down considerably. He had given up on the "3 AM shake" tactic that most football players subscribed to, after the second night it had him bolting to the bathroom to puke everything up. He couldn't even imagine how Vince managed it.

Today he looked just as bloated as the previous night. Instead of his weight being lower in his torso, his belly was still painfully taut from the top of his stomach onwards, making it look like he was puffing his stomach out. He cringed, poking it lightly and belching when the poke awakened a couple gurgles.

Lucas grimaced as the churning started back up and he slowly peeled off his clothes, forced to pace himself in order to not upset his belly more. He didn't normally shower before gym, only right after, but today if he didn't shower he was going to fall back asleep.

By the time he arrived to the gym that was near campus, Lucas was starting to doubt anything was digesting at all. His stomach was gurgling non stop, but it was still rock hard and he had been forced to wear his biggest pair of track pants, because anything else had felt like he was being squeezed like a tube of toothpaste.

Vince was already in the gym, throwing the cross fit ropes, grey tank top drenched with sweat.

"Morning," Lucas groaned, walking closer as he started, or attempted to, his warm up.

"Morn- Damn, Luke, you good?" Vince raised an eyebrow, "I thought you were against the 3 AM shake-" he eyed Luke's bloated stomach, pushing on the fabric of his gym top.

"I am," Lucas grimaced, "this is all dinner. It's sitting like a brick."

Vince whistled, looking shocked, "did you take any medicine...?"

"Which?" Lucas sat on the ground as he attempted to stretch and touch his toes, "I'm just bloated, I don't have heartburn to take TUMS and pepto is just going to back me up," he rolled his eyes.

Vin shrugged, "I guess," he said in a worried tone, "you're just looking a little pasty, brother."

"Yeah," Lucas agreed even though there was nothing to agree. He finally touched his toes and groaned, letting his head hang in the space between his outstretched arms as the position made his stomach ache fiercely.

There was no way he could manage to train at all. Lucas quickly gave up on the possibility of lifting anything today when even trying to lift a dumbell had him gagging against his hand. He joined the aerobics class, trying to at the very least stay moving. Normally he could do the little old ladies class with his eyes closed, but today even that was kicking his ass.

A woman in her late fifties chuckled as she passed him by once the class was over and he was sprawled on the ground, trying to keep himself from puking, "Lucas, this was sad."

"I know," he groaned, pathetically, "rematch next week, Mrs. Fitz?"

"Uhm," she pretended to think about it, "only if you don't pout when I kick your ass. Have a nice day, Luke-" she waved him goodbye, joining the group of married women who were herded near the door, giggling.

Lucas rolled his eyes, staring at the ceiling, only to have the lights shadowed when Vince leaned over him, "flirting with cougars doesn't count as exercising, Luke," he said cheekily, offering a hand to pull Luke up, "did you at least manage to work up an appetitie for breakfast?"

Lucas reeled at the thought of the greasy, carb loaded breakfast that awaited him, "fuck no," he whined and Vince paid him no mind, squeezing his nape and steering him to the showers.

He felt drunk by the time they entered the large communal bathroom. Without any sense of which way was up, the whole world twirling in rhythm with his guts. Lucas wasn't sure why it the nausea wasn't backing down, it had been hours...

He sat down on the bench, trying to muster up energy to undress and Vince, already under the water and washing his hair, glanced in his direction. He was tall enough that even with the stall closed, he had a clear view of the bathroom, "Luke?"

Lucas groaned, spreading his legs apart and tugging on his sweat drenched top. It was clinging to his belly and it was too much. He grabbed the neckline and tugged on it until he managed to undress it, probably damaging the tanktop.

Now shirtless, he glanced down and let out a whine, getting a clear view of his stomach. It was huge and gurgling fiercely.

"Get in the shower, Luke, you just need to wash the gross feeling away," Vince said, very wisely. Normally it'd be a good advice, but today Lucas thought he was past the "wash the gross away" stage.

He all but crawled to the shower and didn't have any energy to wash himself, instead opting for just staying under the cold spray for as long as he could get away with it. Staring at the swirling water, he worked up a nasty wet belch that had Vince saying "Luke?" in a worried tone.

He braced against the tiled wall with one arm, the other one cradling his stomach and swallowed fiercely, battling the nausea, "I'm fine!" he Lucas yelled back. He was not going to lose that dinner after so many hours feeling like shit.

"I'm fine," he repeated, jaw heavy, lifting his head so he could get a gulp of water and spitting it back out to get rid of the sweet saliva flooding his mouth.

Vin was in a great mood as they walked to the nearest café. A mood Lucas wanted to join in, but he could barely participate in the conversation, his head throbbing with the hours of discomfort.

"Cheer up," Vince rattled him by the shoulders and approaching the barista, "hi Jenny."

Jenny was just seventeen, with a round face and big curls around it. She had a huge crush on Leo, of all people, and Vince loved holding this over his head.

"Hi Vince," she smiled brightly, "hi Lucas..." then she trailed off, glancing past their shoulders in search of Leo. Vince's smile was wolfish with how entertained he was.

"Leo doesn't take up the six AM slot anymore, Jenny," he said, whispering, "he's moved to eight AM, before work."

Her face lit up at the new information, "oh yeah? And do you think he'll still come here without you guys?"

Lucas glared at Vince when he nodded eagerly, clearly trying to get Leo in an awkward situation, "yeah, with his boyfriend," Luke said sourly and Jenny's happy smile fell.

"Ah... He's dating?"

Vince rolled his eyes at Lucas, then smiled sympathetically to Jenny, "for almost a year now, Jen, sorry," he said, as if the teenager had ever had a shot.

She pouted, looking heartbroken.

Vince huffed as they sat outside the cafe, a bunch of pastries piled on his plate, a sad looking croissant before Lucas, "well, there goes the extra caramel drizzle I got, Lucas, thank you very much."

"You're an ass," Lucas scoffed, then tried to nibble on the croissant, only to put it down immediately as his stomach let out an angry gurgle at the prospect of more food. Cold sweat broke over his lips and he groaned, leaning and folding his arms on the table, resting his chin on them, "I feel like crap."

"You look worse," Vince said, still annoyed about the previous interaction and finishing up a blueberry muffin in two bites, "we are so gonna lose this season," he said morosely, picking at the berries of the next muffin, "we don't have Jon or Leo in the team anymore. You're a mess-"

"I'm fine," Lucas scoffed, latching his lips around the straw of his latte and sucking in. Yes, it tasted good, but the sugary beverage was too much. His mouth watered in the worst way possible and forcefully swallowed it down, "I'm fine, I just need to bulk-"

"I am broken," Vince continued, ignoring him, "even with all the physical therapy, my shoulder and ribs hurt like a bitch whenever the temperature drops and my breathing isn't right-"

Lucas' stomach churned with renewed fury as Vince's complaints washed over him. He hated losing, had always hated losing... He ducked his head and let out a sick sounding burp to his lap, before grabbing the drink and squeezing it in his hand, bringing the straw back to his mouth.

"-and it's just a fucking bummer, if the Tigers win again I'm going to personally beat up Tyler-" Vince's paused the ranting, frowning, "Lucas, stop-" he reached over the table to grab the drink, "put down the drink."

"I can do it," Luke slurred, pressing his eyes closed and moving back and out of Vin's reach, "we're not going to lose-"

"We're gonna lose regardless of you hurling all over your shoes or not, give me the fucking- Ah, porca miseria," Vince interrupted himself when Lucas gagged harshly, "Luke, c'mon, man..."

It was too late, though. He tried to swallow the next mouthful of his creamy coffee drink, only for his throat tp refuse to work. Lucas groaned, holding it in his mouth, planting the drink back on the table.

Faintly he could hear Vince was saying something, but Luke wasn't even sure of what to do. He couldn't swallow, at all. His stomach clenched and he slammed a hand over his lips, cheeks puffing out in a cartoonish manner.

He felt his chair be dragged, a feat only Vin could manage and then his big hand came to rest between Lucas' shoulder blades, pushing him to lean forward.

The coffee came up without him even gagging. He coughed, spluttering as the liquid hit the ground and struggled to breathe, trying to keep everything else inside.

"It's fine, Luke," Vince rubbed his back in a soft manner, although he sounded a bit frustrated, "just take a deep breath, you're fine."

"I want to go home," Lucas whined, hugging his sick stomach. He knew there was no way his dinner was going to stay down now that his gag reflex was triggered, so his classes for the day were bust, "Vin-"

"Yeah, alright, man," Vince sighed, helping him up, "you're a silly idiot, you know that?"

Luke let out a whimper, exhausted and sick. His nerves were fried and the bantering was lost on him. Vince drove him home, the car's silence so thick one could cut with a knife and he helped Lucas all the way to the door, knocking on it as he unlocked.

"Bells?" Vince called, about to hang Lucas' car keys, but he shook his head.

"Keep it, otherwise you'll be late for class-"

"Well, I can get a ride back, it's fin-"

"What the fuck is happening here?" Bella scoffed, interrupting them both. She was standing on the doorway to the kitchen, in just her pjs, hair in a ponytail, "why are you back home?"

"Because I threw up"

"Because he's an idiot"

Lucas glared at Vince, falling on the couch, "because I'm too sick for class," he explained and Bella raised a judgmental eyebrow, then glared at Vin herself.

"You," she said in a cold manner, "you've been egging him on with this madness, you ass. Get out of my house."

"Me!" Vince cried out, but there was a hint of humor in his voice as Bella crossed the room to shove him out, "I'm innocent! It's not my fault he's got the stomach of a delicate little baby-"

"Out!" Bella scoffed, shoving his arm a little harder, "and take the stupid protein shakes with you!"

"That's theft-" Vince giggled, barely moving with her shoving. His chuckle got interrupted when Lucas let out a sick sounding burp and groaned "...ohgod" sprinting down the hallway.

Bella cringed, pinching her nose bridge, "get the hell out of here, Vince," she said, then turned around, giving up on shoving him out and following Lucas into the bathroom.

"It's not even nine yet, Luke," Bella groaned, crouching next to him. He was folded over the toilet, resting his cheek on the seat, higyene be damned.

"m'sorry," he groaned, "should've listened-"

"Yeah yeah, you should," she rolled her eyes, cupping his face and pushing the bangs away from his eyes, "whatever did you gorge on this morning?"

"Nothi-" Lucas lurched forward, loudly heaving and bringing up another mouthful of foul vomit. Bella cringed at the smell, hitting the flush, while he hung over the toilet water, groaning and panting.

She sighed, moving forward to hold his forehead and rubbing his back with the other hand, "okay, get it up, Lucas. It's just too much food, you'll feel better soon."

"Don't think so," he scoffed, spitting in the water, "I think-" he belched, leaning his forehead on her palm, "I think I really overdid it."

Bella bit the inside of her cheek with annoyance and concern. She couldn't believe he had pushed himself so badly he was actually sick, after so many days sick already.

"Goddammit, Lucas," she sighed, thumping his back lightly when it sounded like he was choking. He let out a whimper, digging a hand on his stomach.

"Bella, kill me."

"I'm considering it," she teased, planting a kiss on his shoulder, "I'm going to let my team know I'll be offline this morning, give me a second."

Lucas groaned, feeling a whole new shade of shitty as he realized he had interrupted her mid work and braced against the toilet bowl again. Despite the puking, he didn't feel even a little bit better. If anything he felt worse.

He pressed his palm against his stomach and pressed, trying to rub it, only managing to give himself a bruise and cough mercilessly over the bowl.

She returned not even five minutes later, seeming a little more at ease than before and crouched down next to him as Lucas continued to dry heave.

"You're done, Lu," Bella sighed, straightening him up, "you're done."

"No," he shook his head, leaning back against the bathtub and hugging his stomach, "I feel awful, Bell... And I'm not done."

She wrinkled her nose not to say I-told-you-so and flushed the toilet again, grabbing their hand towel and wetting it so she could wipe his mouth and the cold sweat all over him.

"Okay, we're gonna go sit in the living room, alright? This way I can work and stay with you."

"But I'm not do-"

"We'll get you a bucket," Bella said, helping him up with a grunt, "c'mon, big guy-"

It took them a minute, Lucas pausing every other step to gag against his hand, but they made it back to the living room. The front door was shut and Lucas scoffed as he saw his car keys resting on the table.

"Vince is such a proud asshole."

Bella rolled her eyes, helping him lean back against the couch pillows, "pot calling the kettle black here, Lucas," she said, voice traveling from the kitchen. Soon she returned with a million things on her arms: his large water bottle, an empty bucket, a roll of toilet paper, her laptop, her laptop support.

"Ugh, I'm sorry," Lucas sighed, curling up, "I completely ruined your day."

"You didn't ruin it. I can code with one hand, it's just very slow" Bella smiled at him, planting the bowl on his arms and the water bottle on the ground as she fixed her set up, "c'mere, baby."

It didn't matter how bad he felt about interrupting her job, Lucas gratefully slumped against her, resting his head on her lap and sighing in relief when he felt her hand rest on his bloated stomach.

Bella kept rubbing circles on his stomach, then up his chest, stroking his cheek and petting his hair... Then back down, in a gentle rhthym. Lucas let out a heavy sigh, snuggling closer.

"I'm gonna take it easier from now on," he promised, kissing the inside of her wrist when her hand went up to stroke his cheek, absently minded.

Bella sighed, leaning in and planting a kiss on his forehead, "I mean, it just seems counterproductive to try to gain weight if you puke everything you ate," she teased, her breath tickling him and Lucas snorted, moving his face to bury his nose against her pajama's shirt.

[nuumbie]

okay I know you’ve already got scar requests but regarding your oneshot of us choosing him on the FIRST date like omg…..,,,,,

I know for a FACT I’d be literally like OMG PHYSICAL AFFECTION whether I’m fighting it or not cuz like I’m having identity issues I can’t just juggle that at the same time as my touchstarvedness being slowly cured like 🤷‍♀️ I’ll take the Scar hug that probably when I’d straight up cling it was hard enough before to not just give in to the physical affection my ass is NOT trying anymore I am CLINGY and I am HERE

What do you think Scar would think of such a thing like holy shit not only did they choose me but PHYSICAL AFFECTION RECIPROCATED THIS IS SO MUCH MORE THAN I COULDVE ASKED FOR I AM NOT LETTING THEM GO 🫶🫶

Is it a questionable desicion of reader? Of course it is however they are touchstarved snd several other issues, and he is probably too so 🤷‍♀️ I think it’d be funny and cute to see them attached at the hip especially with our popularity

general consensus, reader is naturally clingy n fucking caved when he straight up hugged them like okay clingy mode on they already have identity issues may as well reciprocate affection that they’re melting very much at

If any of this is too long or confusing lemme know 🙏

It has been months oomph … I recently gained motivation and cleaned some old works ( they are still messy since my writing is verrry self indulgent for me )… but I am going to try to respond to things…. I’m so sorry for those waiting for the sequel to the scar fic … those poor souls I’ll write it but to tell the truth I have NOT been playing WUWA !!! Waiting for the scar banner ….. but I made a promise when I made a messily owned tumblr blog !!!

( changli has come out since i’ve written anything that’s how long it took as a reference for my poor readers … )

Please come out soon scar… please it will revive my motivation in the game …

I wrote reader / rover as cat-coded ( ie hissing and biting judging him )…. Cause I mostly based the fic off the canon idea of being born an amnesiac and there are all these people forcing me to do … side quests … and having a realistic reason to go ok you might have a point evil man… and also it being rlly funny with a straight man reader x his manic energy… but honestly the idea of them being into it because they are experiencing it for the first time / not hating it per se is very fun. If we’re thinking of a rover! s/o ( I think he would be kind of mean to other people which is a fun dynamic to be explored later esp non!resonator readers … )…

The idea of you slowly getting accustomed to just having scar holding you close daily after joining… with his hugs or him being absurd with his requests for him to lead you by the hands so you don’t get ‘lost’ or the time he touches and pokes you to make sure you’re ’still there!’… very much excuses for physical contact !!!

The horror as you realize that you nuzzled back into scar… you know you did because he’s staring at you with these big old 🥺 eyes like it’s the most amazing thing in the world every time … and also because he’s laughing sing-song-like about how he’s the favoooorite in front of phorlova so you for sure know because he remembers cause he mentions it ! every ! single ! time! ( because she cares a lot for you too, her special sound, but he cares faaar more ! he’s making a record in his mind to bring up every time she acts even a bit possessive that he’s faaar superior ! )

( if anyone else touches you like that he gets weirdly pouty about it and territorial and probably does that stupid thing where he touches you over it like he’s replacing it with his own touch. very childish because he doesn’t have a mature way of processing his own feelings despite being smarter than he seems... i feel like he’s just as starved and he’s very new to this closeness thing or caring about someone so much. it’s so important because it’s you who’s so special… lavishing him in this attention… and he wants to be special to you. he wants to have you to himself … )

I think he would love it very much. would very much feed you your doses of daily touch when he realizes you like it in return… gives much serotonin to his brain when he realizes you’re clingy in and like it.

Would be hell for a reader who dislikes physical ! touch because i think he would try to hold back but would catch himself slipping up a lot. It’s a very soothing /possessive thing for him i think? There’s something about … holding the thing you like! Touching it. Affirming it’s there and it’s real. If you’re in his arms you can’t disappear !

He would love to be that good friend who absolutely wants to be more that shows you all about physical intimacy! Yes, he will teach you all about how affection is shared ! ( he has never experienced this for himself and is just as touch starved if not worse than you so now both of your ideas will be warped )…. Goes to caress your face or just rub and squeeze it like he’s taking in your features or memorizing the shape of your face or squeezes you like a squish toy sometimes, wrapping his arms around you /lifting you and carrying you around places / very much into the idea of actually holding you all the time, i think he would probably copy the things he sees normal people do when he sneaks around towns or now that he has you to experience such things with… or just gives into intrusive thoughts he’s finally got a chance to !!!

Would very much just touch certain places if it was a curiosity thing ... if that makes sense… his fingers probably brush up against your resonator mark a lot almost lovingly, reverent, maybe, as he touches the skin there like it’s special. Imagine him pressing the skin of his face there and caressing it lovingly or something... I think if your fingers touched his neck where his mask is in return in a nice, pleasant, way or shared even a fraction of attention there he might die actually. Gets speechless! Imagine that breathy, excited gulp of air before he grabs you by the wrist gently and holds your hand there… ‘can you touch there again like that?’ with that somewhat manic look.

And you remember instead of a black lamb always following after your footsteps he is also much like a big stupid dog.

Much thoughts…. Hope this feeds, nonnie !!! I’m an even worse rambler ! Let’s try to get to requests soon……… it’s so much easier to ramble than write…. But I will help feed the populace of scar fans !!!

[asoftgoth]

I hope these aren't intrusive to ask, but when it comes to your recent hip growth...

A. It's so cute, first of all

B. Do you believe they're growing solely because of HRT, or because of HRT plus you're specifically eating enough to continue gaining during your transition?

And when it comes to your transition in general, if you happen to plan to undergo any sort of gender confirmation surgery, have you already looked into qualifications/patient criteria? I'm not asking because I want to pry about you but because I think my egg is cracking but I'm already about the same size as you and I'm worried that if I even try transitioning, eventually I'll hit a road block at which point if I want to get any relevant surgery, they won't consider me viable unless I lose a lot of weight.

Again, I'm so sorry if this isn't stuff you're comfortable talking about, in which case please don't feel obligated to reply to this at all. I hope you're doing well!

Hey there :) First off im happy to answer pretty much any transition related questions. These are really invasive though and I appreciate you acknowledging that. For everyone that will read this, please don’t expect every trans person you speak with to be willing to open up like this. But with that said here we go:

A: Lol thank you 🥰💕

B: Its such an exciting and scary part of someone’s life when their egg is starting to crack. I remember those days well and I feel for you. But trust me, it gets so much better 💕 And about your questions, my hip growth is because of HRT mainly, and the fact that I have an overall decent diet. That’s pretty much it. And the diet aspect is important, when you transition your body is undergoing a massive transformation and it needs energy to help it along. My actual diet is for another post maybe, (it’s not anything special tho) but I’m not “actively gaining” and haven’t been since I started HRT, believe it or not! It might surprise some people but I’ve actually lost weight even though I’ve added about 3 inches to my hips since starting almost 9 months ago. Almost all of the weight I’ve lost (about 40lbs) has been from muscle loss throught my body. Plus I’ve also lost a ton of visceral fat from my waist(yay), and gained lots of subcutaneous fat in my ass and thighs (also yay). That’s not to mention my chest which is *really* growing a ton, and fast too. I’d say im really lucky with how my proportions are filling out, but it’s a long process and im extremely grateful. Transitioning definitely isn’t over night tho and as much as this sucks, it’s a genetic roll of the dice for what your proportions will look like. Transitioning takes a lot of bravery, and I don’t say that lightly.

With all that said, yes I do have some surgeries in mind that I want and plan on getting in the next few years. I don’t want bottom surgery, but if I did then my size would be an issue. There are strict BMI limitations for getting a vaginoplasty. It fucking sucks but that’s just the reality of things in 2023. Simpler surgeries like getting an orchi don’t have those requirements and that’s one thing I plan on getting fairly soon. Another one is FFS. I’ve actually talked with a few surgeons already who do FFS and some have BMI requirements and others don’t. The ones that don’t unfortunately may cost a bit more from what I’ve seen. (But they do have more experience too). For implants and things like that, I don’t know, I haven’t researched boob jobs specifically but I can’t imagine BMI would be an issue there. I know it isn’t for fat injections in your butt/hips.

One last thing too that I wanna make clear, because a lot of people might read this. You don’t have to actually take any medicine or have any procedures done to be transgender 💕 Medically transitioning is something that helps so many of us and is absolutely necessary for (I would say) most trans people, (it 100% saved my life, I wouldn’t be here without it). But not all, and it doesn’t define your transness whether or not you’ve taken ~this~ medicine or had ~that~ surgery. I was just as much a woman as I am now for the year before I started HRT when I knew I was trans. And I was just as much a girl when I was born. I’ve been a woman all my life, it just took a little while for me to figure myself out haha. Just trust your gut and make healthy decisions. I put off the whole “deliberately gaining” thing while my body is going through all this change. And I personally feel like im better off for it. However I’m working out and eating to help grow my lower half, so I guess you could say my gaining journey isn’t over, it’s just changed. But anyway, I hope this helps you and anyone who reads this, sorry it was so long lol. If you have any other questions don’t hesitate to ask, and my inbox is always open too 🖤

[favesgrave]

Cut the Heroics

((Navigation))

((this is the last time i try posting this. if it doesnt show up in the tags then i give up))

---

The mood had been… a bit odd lately. Recovering the Omega Key and Smokescreen was of course a success, but the loss of the Star Saber was not. A weapon that powerful had shattered like glass next to Megatron’s and had brought Optimus down to his knees in defeat. It was chilling, none of them could deny that. They knew a weapon like that in Megatron’s hands would only bring forth more suffering.

Not all was lost though. One key was in their possession, while the other three were unaccounted for. If they had any luck left, then the Decepticons wouldn’t discover the true purpose of them.

Their work was definitely cut out for them. Optimus knew, and was diligent as ever with his decoding. Blurr would watch him, studying the speed of his typing with interest. If he knew anything about how the technology here worked, or anything about this universe in general, then maybe he could help. Sadly, he was still learning.

He stood near Arcee and Bulkhead, the three of them behind Smokescreen.

“I’m gonna be a great warrior someday,” he said, fully confident in himself. “Like Optimus.”

“Well, train hard and gain some wisdom along the way, and I’m sure it’ll happen,” Bulkhead encouraged. 

“Oh, it will.” Smokescreen turned to look at them, a smile on his face. “It’s my destiny.”

“What was that now?” Bumblebee asked in a way that reminded Blurr of his Bumblebee back home.

Blurr made a face. “Sorry, could you repeat that? Did you say your destiny?”

“How so?” Arcee asked and he was glad that someone was on his side.

Smokescreen remained unbothered by their skepticism. “Well, one minute I’m running security detail at Iacon, the next I wake up on the other side of the galaxy to find myself under Optimus’s command! I mean, what are the chances, right? Things happen for a reason!”

“Smokescreen, I believe the word you’re looking for is a coincidence,” Blurr stated. “Do you need me to define it for you?”

He rolled his optics at that. “Haha, hilarious, Blurr. I’m serious though!”

Arcee raised a hand, cutting him off to spare the rest of them. “We get it, Smokescreen. You’re special, we’re lucky to have you,” she said dryly. 

“I’m just saying! I’ve come a long way, and this is one opportunity I don’t plan on messing up.” He was being genuine about it, Blurr could tell. But Smokescreen was prone to rushing into things without thinking. Judging on what he’d seen so far, that could cost him his life. He’d already faked them out once before, Team Prime did not need to experience the real deal.

“Autobots,” Optimus said, putting a stop to the conversation. “The next Iacon coordinates have been decoded. Ratchet, ready the groundbridge.”

“Last one to the Omega Key has to scrub the energon tanks for a week!” Smokescreen said, right before dashing off to the groundbridge in a typical Smokescreen manner leaving Arcee to remark about how she didn’t know they were keeping score.

Optimus seemed to have other plans, however. “Arcee, Bumblebee, prepare to roll out.”

“You got it, Optimus,” Bee beeped, buzzing with energy.

“Wait, what about me?” Smokescreen questioned. Bulkhead rested his servos on his hips while Blurr crossed his arms.

“Excuse me, I think you’re forgetting Bulkhead and I!”

Smokescreen looked over, cringed slightly at his error, and then quickly amended it. “I mean me, Bulkhead, and Blurr.” He stole a quick glance at the two, who still weren’t thrilled about being glossed over, but looked slightly more appeased than they had a few moments prior. 

“The three of you will remain here in the event I am able to decode a subsequent database entry before the others return,” Optimus explained. With that out of the way, he turned his focus back to decoding and let Ratchet take over the conversation.

“Optimus is right. Considering the very fate of Cybertron is at stake, response time is critical.” Then he finally opened up the groundbridge for Arcee and Bumblebee, who stood at the ready.

“Keep your engines idling, kid.” Arcee had looked over at the younger mech, preparing a jab at him. “Come on Bee, destiny awaits.” The two transformed and rolled off into the bridge, leaving behind a disappointed Smokescreen. All that eagerness had been sucked out of him in an instant. Now he’d been left behind in the base, cooped up until it was his turn for a mission. As he moved closer to him, Blurr found that he could sympathize with that. He always felt the need to be doing something as well, even if it was as meaningless as tapping his pede.

“We call it a pit stop,” Bulkhead said, proceeding to give Smokescreen a hard clap on the back that knocked him forward and made Blurr jump. He knew it was just Bulkhead being Bulkhead, but he also knew that if he ever got hit like that by the green mech, it would send him smackdown into the floor. He would like to avoid that scenario. He also thought about how Bulkhead was a bit of a hugger, with a very, very strong grip. Humans called it a bear hug. 

“I know you mean well Bulkhead but please never do that to me or hug me because I want to avoid getting crushed by you.“

Bulkhead laughed as he looked down at him. “Don’t worry, I’m smart enough to know not to try any of that. You’re not built like the rest of us.”

“You’re all very different from me, that’s true,” Blurr nodded. 

“So… is everyone as short as you back in your universe?” Smokescreen said, doing some thinking aloud. 

“No,” Blurr fixed him with a glare. “Autobots can vary in height following a certain range, though there are some exceptions such as Omega Supreme, but since most of us aren’t warframes like the Decepticons we tend to be much smaller than our opponents. It’s never a problem for civilians since they rarely ever encounter Decepticons considering the Tyrest Accord.”

Smokescreen and Bulkhead shared a look. “What’s the Tyrest Accord?”

“It’s what ended the war! The Decepticons were given a pardon for their actions during the war as long as they agreed to their exile from Cybertron. I can’t be surprised that you don’t know of it since your war never ended though that brings me to my own question; Once you revive Cybertron, what are your plans after that regarding the Decepticons? What’s stopping them from killing the planet all over again?”

There wasn’t an answer for a few seconds. “Sounds like an Optimus question,” Bulkhead said. “Or maybe a Ratchet one.”

The plan, as far as they knew, was that there was no plan. They’d never imagined getting a chance like this to revive their dead homeworld, not in a million years. For everyone’s sake, Blurr hoped they figured it out soon.

The last thing he wanted was to see Cybertron burn.

After all, the nightmares of it were already horrifying enough.

---

Not too long later, Arcee and Bumblebee stepped through the bridge covered in fresh scratches and holding no relic. Any doubt of them failing their mission had been erased as Ratchet ushered them both to the med-bay.

Another victory that was lost to the Decepticons, but their hope hadn’t been eliminated yet.

But they still had one key. They just had to hold onto that one. If they did that, then they could still hold onto their chance.

“While our quest to restore our planet may have reached a stalemate, securing the remaining keys is still the most prudent course of action.” As usual, Optimus spoke only facts.

And to no one’s surprise, Smokescreen wasn’t the most skilled at reading the room. “Man, it must’ve been crazy with Knockout going all sonic. Ugh, I wish I’d been there! I would’ve-“

“Would’ve what?” Arcee cut in, her wings flattened to her back as she glared at him. “Recover the key like you did the first one?”

“Maybe,” Smokescreen said. “Who knows? I just want us to be firing at all cylinders! You know, now that the Star Saber’s gone. And I have a pretty good track record so far.” 

Arcee scoffed and pushed herself to her pedes, stalking past him silently. Blurr watched, silently pondering on whether or not he should go after her. She had comforted him when he needed it, was it his turn to do the same? Arcee seemed to like her space, and he didn’t want to intrude on that. He didn’t actually know the first thing about comforting a bot. So, he stayed where he was.

“Look kid,” Blurr tuned back into the conversation to listen to Bulkhead begin to speak. “Arcee and Bumblebee are no slouches, and Optimus managed just fine for eons without the big sword. ‘Course you wouldn’t know about that, you’ve been locked in stasis the whole time we’ve been fighting this war.”

Blurr didn’t exactly know about any of that either, but it went without saying that he got a pass.

“Exactly!” Smokescreen agreed, like someone was finally getting it. “And I’m ready to make up for lost time!”

“When Optimus says you’re ready,” Bulkhead shot back. “You gotta be in this for the long haul. Slow and steady wins the race.”

“Not necessarily,” Blurr said. Speed had always gotten the job done for him… for better or for worse. It’d almost cost him his mission back on Earth with that whole street-racing scheme. He still hated thinking about it. 

“Sometimes, you gotta live life in the slow lane,” Bulkhead told him, ignoring the face he made. That sounded like an actual nightmare for him, so they would have to agree to disagree indefinitely on that one.

There wasn’t much more that could be said, on account of the familiar beeping that rang through the base. “The next Iacon coordinates are ready,” Optimus announced.

“There remains one set left to decode,” Ratchet said. He put in the required coordinates to give them a fix on the location, then pulled the switch that brought the groundbridge to life. 

“On it boss,” Bulkhead said.

“I’m gonna bring back that key,” Smokescreen promised. He took one look at Arcee, who looked skeptical but didn’t comment on it.

“Uh, Bulk?” she called out. Once he turned around, she held up the tracker for the relic. “Forgetting something?” He stared for a short moment before facepalming and shuffling on over to take the tracker. As Blurr passed them by to join Smokescreen, he couldn’t help but listen in as the two exchanged words, something about keeping an eye on destiny’s child. It didn’t take a genius to know Arcee meant Smokescreen.

Blurr was stopped by the voice of a red and blue “Blurr, I would like to request that you remain here.”

“What? With all due respect Optimus Prime sir, I can’t see the reason for me staying behind when there could be a larger advantage with me going, especially after the last attempt of grabbing an Omega Key went wrong, which I don’t mean any offense to Bumblebee and Arcee.”

“I understand your argument…” Optimus gave a nod to Bulkhead, telling him that he and Smokescreen could go. “Though I have my own concerns. While your quick-thinking has demonstrated to be useful in the heat of battle, you are still new to war.” Blurr’s face dropped at that. So Arcee had been right when she said everyone else had probably figured it out. He knew it would happen eventually, but he would have liked to be at least a bit more ready. “With Megatron’s power growing, there is no doubt his attempts to retrieve the Omega Keys will prove to be more harrowing. I will not put you in that danger.”

Blurr gaped up at him. “So are you saying that I’m not allowed to go on any more missions and that I’m confined to base?” He could practically already feel the claustrophobia setting in.

“No,” he answered. “I believe you need to learn more knowledge of our world before you are ready to engage in more perilous missions.” He would prefer not to send him into the field at all considering how young he was, but knew Blurr wouldn’t accept that. He was stubborn, after all.

“I can see the logic behind your reasoning,” Blurr admitted. “Will I be given datapads to read from or learn from a teacher?” His first guess was Ratchet since Optimus was too busy at the moment, and the medic was the second most knowledgeable Autobot they had.

“I think it would be best to use both methods,” Optimus said, looking in another direction. Blurr followed his optics, which landed on Arcee. That was a surprise, but a welcome one. “I have already discussed it with Arcee, and she has agreed to give you a few lessons. I suggest you begin now.” He nodded down at him and left him to join up with Arcee.

“Are you sure you’re willing to do this right now? If you’re injured, then you should rest to recover because not doing so could possibly worsen your wounds,” he chided.

Arcee chuckled. “I’m just a little sore, don’t worry. Come on,” she said and started down the hall. “Tell me what you learned in your Elite Guard.”

“Well before even joining the Guard, I had to go through training at Autobot Boot Camp where my platoon and I learned all the necessary skills any talented Autobot should know and my speed naturally made me stick out among my peers, giving me my name and allowing me to move onto the Autobot Academy which is a more prestigious institution where most Elite Guardsmen start out, with some exceptions.”

“You got your name from boot camp?”

“Of course! Most Autobots do,” he said. “I take your outrage as a sign of things being different here.”

“Sometimes we’re given names, but we’re allowed to choose our own names too,” she said. “Back on Cybertron before the war, there were lower caste bots who weren't ever given real names. And they chose them for themselves.” 

A caste system? It suddenly occurred to Blurr how little he actually knew about this universe’s Cybertron, besides the fact that it was dead. “Would you mind elaborating?” 

Her optics widened slightly, like she thought he had misspoke, but she obliged. Different universes meant different circumstances. “Cybertron had three classes. High, middle, and lower. Lower class belonged to the manual laborers, like miners and haulers. The caste system is the reason the war broke out in the first place. A miner-turned-gladiator started giving speeches, gaining a following…”

“Megatron,” Blurr guessed, feeling uneasy just saying his name. He hadn’t forgotten the cruel look in his optics, or the way he threatened to slice Arcee in half. He wouldn’t ever forget any of that. But what scared him most of all was the fact Megatron knew that there was something that marked Blurr as different from the rest of the Autobots. He wanted to have a little chat about it, but Megatron’s definition of a chat was more likely some kind of torture session, one Blurr wanted zero part of.

Arcee had nodded, confirming his theory. “It didn’t take long for the war to break out after that.” She stopped in front of a wide, empty room. This was supposed to be an old human base, so Blurr could only wonder what they used to cram in here. “What kind of training did they teach you?”

“Most of it was all battlefield simulations to sharpen our ability to think fast while in combat, but there were occasions where we would be put into pairs to spar or on teams to compete against each other. They would test us often in order to rank our strengths and weaknesses and those results would all factor into courses, sometimes increasing difficulty levels on assignments.”

“I can work with that,” she said. “But ‘Cons fight dirty. It’s not going to be like a simulation. It’s not fair, but we still have a few things that can even the odds. The Apex Armor, the Immobilizer, the Polarity Gauntlet, the Spark Extractor,” she listed. His optics widened at the last one. “Some we use only if we have to, but this is a war we’re outnumbered in. We have to do what we need to to survive. But, I’ll take a guess and say you don’t have any of those relics back home.” When he shook his head, she went into a quick summary that covered the basics of each weapon, but promised there was a more in depth version written down. “I’ll give you the datapads later.”

“When I first arrived here and told you about how your alternate self was a teacher you were very dismissive of the idea but look at you now,” Blurr said.

“Don’t push it,” she said, without any real venom in her tone. “Optimus thought I’d be a good match to train you.”

“Because we’re both small,” he said. He had been taller than his universe’s Bumblebee, but now he barely reached this one’s hips. If his Bumblebee ever saw, he would hold that over him while also despairing over the fact that he couldn’t be as tall as his other self. He hadn’t known him for that long, but he was a slightly annoying bot, so it seemed about right. Despite a few lapses in judgment, his spark was in the right place. He at least had that going for him. 

He pushed Bumblebee out of mind to focus on the lesson. He didn’t have a clue why he’d even been thinking of him in the first place, maybe it’d just been homesickness.

“Being small will get you underestimated,” Arcee continued. It’s what some of his instructors would repeat to all their students. “So use that to your advantage. Your speed’s already a good start, it can let you take down your opponent before they even know what hit them.”

He took half a second to think about what she said. “When you say ‘take down’ you mean kill, don’t you?”

She looked away from him. That in itself was already an answer. “Sometimes there isn’t a choice,” she said quietly. “And I hope you never get put in that position... I mean that.”

He believed her, he really did. But he remembered the way the Autobots had gunned down those Decepticons that had been after him the first day he arrived in this strange universe. There’d been no hesitation there, even from Smokescreen, who was pretty green as far as combat experience went. He was already preparing for the day he’d have to make that same life or death choice.

They both received a message from Ratchet, informing them that Bulkhead and Smokescreen were about to return.

“Guess lesson’s over for today,” Arcee said. She left the room to rejoin Ratchet and Optimus, and Blurr took that as his cue to follow. By the time they’d gotten there, Smokescreen and Bulkhead had already come back… neither of them carrying an Omega Key. They’d just finished explaining what had happened to Optimus and Ratchet, Smokescreen in particular looking like his pride had been beaten down.

“What happened?” Arcee asked.

“Smokescreen was sucker-punched.” Blurr’s optics widened at that. Who’d been fast enough to get the drop on him? “Could’ve happened to any of us.” Bulkhead tried to comfort him with his words and put a servo on the kid’s shoulder, but got shoved away.

“But it didn’t,” Smokescreen said. “Because I was the one who dropped his guard. I was the one who blew it. Some great warrior I’m turning out to be,” he said under his breath.

Arcee didn’t take that lightly. “You still don’t get it, do you? A couple of victories aren’t gonna make you a legend, and not every mission results in success. Not for me, not for Bee, not even for Optimus.” Blurr noticed Optimus glance over at his team at the mention of his name. His optics darted away from his leader and back to the others in a panic. Something was about to happen, and he had the feeling it wasn’t going to be good.

 “We’ve gained some relics and we’ve lost some. We’ve also lost friends. We’ve even lost a world!” she snapped at him. “But this is one time we get a do-over. We have a chance to bring back Cybertron and everyone in this room needs to be in sync. This isn’t about you or your destiny.” Smokescreen didn’t have any snappy comeback at the ready, only dropping his gaze to the floor. 

Optimus finally fully faced them all. “Arcee, you’ve made your point.” 

“Optimus, he needs to hear this. You might actually become a great warrior someday, and I sincerely hope that you do. But greatness begins and ends with putting the team first, not your personal scorecard.”

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you guys!” Smokescreen insisted.

“Then stop trying to be a hero and start being an Autobot,” she finished firmly.

Smokescreen looked to Optimus, maybe hoping for him to defend him, but he only got silence. Silence from Optimus, and silence from the rest of the team. “You know what? Maybe I’m just not good enough,” he snapped. Before anyone else could get another word in, he transformed and sped out of the base.

“Maybe next time Optimus advises you to stop, perhaps you should listen,” Ratchet suggested. Blurr felt a shred of sympathy for Smokescreen for getting chewed out by Arcee like that. She would make a good drill sergeant back home.

“I’ll bring him back.” Bulkhead took a step forward, but a servo placed on his chest by Optimus stopped him.

“Smokescreen is young, Bulkhead, and has much to learn. But right now, he needs to clear his thoughts. And I need to finish decoding the final Iacon entry.”

The final one.

The whole time Blurr had been here, it’d been all about the Iacon relics. What was supposed to come after that? They couldn’t just jump on over to Cybertron, considering they only possessed one key. Retrieving the other two from the Decepticons would be no easy task, considering they had a warship. Blurr was not feeling confident in their odds, but tried to keep quiet about that.

“Think the kid’ll be okay?” Bulkhead asked worriedly.

“He’ll get over it,” Bumblebee said. “Just give him a bit of space.”

Blurr wished he could be as optimistic as Bumblebee was, but his anxiety was telling him that there was still something wrong and the worst wasn’t over. Maybe he was just being paranoid. Yeah, that had to be it.

“Smokescreen’s a very confident and proud bot so one loss such as this will feel like the end of the world to him,” Blurr commented. Then, he realized he had not helped things and winced internally before trying to lighten the mood again. “But I’m sure Bumblebee’s right and that he’ll bounce back in no time!”

“We’ll see…” Bulkhead said.

There was at least some good news as Optimus told the others the final relic entry had been decoded.

“Has it?” Ratchet questioned, staring at a blank screen. It switched to reveal a clump of scattered blue pixels, but it was hard to tell what exactly it meant. Maybe it meant nothing and the file was somehow corrupted. 

“Hm… Perhaps it is a second encryption,” Optimus said. 

Red pixels gradually began to join the blue ones and as Blurr took a closer look, his optics widened. “They seem to be revealing some sort of image, maybe something along the lines of a map as an extra precaution but the more I look at it, the more it looks like a bot!”

“The relic’s a bot?” Bulkhead asked.

“How would that make any sense?” Ratchet said, ever the skeptic. “It’s the fourth Omega Key, it has to be a key as well.”

Optimus’s frown deepened. “I trust that Alpha Trion had his reasons.” 

Once the pixels finally finished assembling, the image was revealed to be…

“Smokescreen?” Bulkhead managed, wondering if he was seeing things wrong. The picture was undeniably him.

Arcee narrowed her optics. “Is this that hot shot’s idea of a joke?” 

“I don’t think he could pull something like this off,” Bumblebee said, and Blurr found himself agreeing.

“Maybe he knows where the key is!” Bulkhead tried, though even he knew that was a long shot.

“And not say anything to any of us? That doesn’t add up!” Blurr interjected. 

“A more likely possibility is that Smokescreen himself somehow is the key without knowing it,” Ratchet said. If they had decoded the final entry by now, then the Decepticons must’ve too. That meant they would have their sights set on him by now.

Blurr hated whenever his anxiety ended up being right.

“Whatever the case, Smokescreen could be in grave danger.” Optimus raised a digit to his commlink and attempted to summon him back, but there was only radio silence.

“He may have deactivated his commlink,” Ratchet said.

“Locate his position and prepare the groundbridge.” Even in a crisis, Optimus still maintained a levelhead. Blurr supposed that’s just one of the things that millions of years of what would get you as a leader.

The urgency of the situation was slowly setting in for everyone. It took mere seconds for Ratchet to get a fix on his signal that was moving rapidly down the roads of Jasper, Nevada. Until suddenly, it came to an abrupt stop. The bridge opened a moment later and the team, minus Ratchet, raced on through. Blurr nearly followed after them until he remembered his orders of staying behind on missions. If there were Decepticons there, then he was sure this counted as one of those times.

Begrudgingly, he stuck by Ratchet. 

His spark nearly gave out when he saw Smokescreen’s signal vanish from the screen. “Is he-?!”

“No,” Ratchet said quickly. “The Decepticons wouldn’t slaughter him so quickly knowing what we do. Since I can no longer track Smokescreen’s signal, then I fear he’s been taken prisoner aboard their ship.”

Another loss to the Decepticons.

[ed-recovery-affirmations]

i’ve been fully in recovery for about 4 and a half months now, and i’m only just now starting to gain a little bit of weight back after continuing to lose during recovery. i’m including this information for a sort of scale for what i’m about to say.

in the last few weeks, i’ve lost my appetite and have gotten really nauseous whenever i eat, which i suspect is the result of some undiagnosed (and unrelated to the ED) health problems that i’m not able to go to a doctor about at the moment. i’ve been hungrier more often and for the first time in a long time, it’s starting to feel good again, even though i’ve been doing so much better for a while. i’m terrified of slipping up without thinking about it and i desperately don’t want to fall back into that awful hole again, but im so scared that my lack of appetite is going to ruin everything and i’ll lose everything.

i don’t even really know my goal with sending this in. i think i want advice, or maybe just somewhere to put this where i can get a response but wont have the people around me stop trusting me with my own health again. im just really scared

Hello anon, I'm sorry to hear you're encountering this complication. You could be right that this is a physical complication from having been starved for so long (and I do advise that you see a medical professional as soon as you are able to do so.)

Do you notice this nausea around eating very specific foods? It could be that your body has developed an intolerance for certain foods, or a difficulty digesting them.

If this nausea is arising in response to every food, I recommend you stock up on things like ginger and peppermint tea, which can ease your stomach and aid in digestion. Then you can work on getting food down and settle your stomach. Try not to move around too much during and immediately after eating. After restriction, it is normal for your body to lack the energy needed for the normal digestive process, so relaxing and staying still may help somewhat ease your symptoms, as your body can focus all its limited energy on digesting what you've given it.

Try to eat small snacks between meals to keep your energy levels up and your stomach accustomed to having things in it. Things like nuts and berries can be good. Anything that's easy to digest and keeps basic energy going to your body.

Do deep breathing exercises and perhaps recite a calming mantra in order to ease any potential psychological portion of your symptoms, but do keep an eye on your physical symptoms. Refeeding syndrome is no joke. Log them down, as well as what you ate preceding the nausea, for when you eventually are able to get to the doctor.

And finally, in between meals, it sounds like you could benefit from taking time to remind yourself to be gentle with yourself during this difficult time. Remind yourself that you are well motivated not to lose your progress, that you have a support system, that you are going to take the time to figure this out, that recovery is not linear. Remind yourself that it is okay to be anxious, and that you will work through this. I hope you're able to get through this part of recovery, anon!

[morgandria]

My spirituality feels messy, sometimes. I don’t think that can be helped, since like the rest of me it developed organically over time. As much as Virgo-me would love to keep it all in nice neat boxes in my head, it didn’t start that way and sure as hell isn’t interested in ending that way. It can be frustrating. I have to both acknowledge its' eclectic tangle, and attempt not to cross the streams. I do my homework. I respect boundaries. I try to get into the heart of things, rather than just skimming the surface. I never want anyone to think I’m some kind of spiritual tourist. But understanding and perspective are always evolving. Shit happens. Needs change. You accumulate as you go.

The earliest things were Native. It’s like the deep earth under my feet. I was raised with stories and teachings from my grandfather, but at the same time I was not raised inside larger Métis culture. I feel uncomfortable with attempting to practice much more that a good (occasional) smudge, and a bit of plant medicine. Unfortunately, being Métis is also political. People are fast to label others 'pretendian', or a cultural appropriator days - social media is addicted to those 'gotcha' moments. I don’t feel like putting myself out there just to attract abuse from smug self-righteous assholes who assume you’re just lying for some kind of personal gain. So while there’s still potential for connecting some roots there, it will likely remain the path untrodden.

It's not a big leap between plant medicine and witchcraft. Which was always a career option, in my mind. I always knew I’d be a witch when I grew up, from a young age. I think it’s why I loved Halloween so much. It was a chance to let the inside and outside match. Early-early stuff, aside from the native stuff, I spent learning from spirits and getting to grips with energy work. It was simple, but it was wonderful to feel like infinity was at your fingertips.

I’ve had a long relationship with Wicca. I suppose the early days were more properly a kind of Neopagan practice with a Wiccan flavour, but the basic framework was there. I felt a calling to a coven for many years, and specifically for initiation into priesthood. I eventually reached a point where the things I wanted to learn were outside my reach until I found one. I was lucky, and 20 years with a coven practice has been fulfilling in many ways. I don’t doubt that the Lord and Lady truly did call me home. But I often wonder how much longer I might walk this path. I call myself witch more than Wiccan, as of late, and feel like I've lost momentum. The disconnect isn’t huge, but it’s there.

That point where I stalled out before being invited to my coven I took the time to explore Irish polytheism. I had long been a devotee of The Morrigan, and over time developed relationships with other deities in the pantheon. Deepening those ties was very satisfying, but at the time there were lots of gatekeepers. The battle over authenticity was something I wanted no part of. I also had a hard time with that style of ritual expression - trying to be ‘correct' often came at the expense of joy and pleasure. It was dry as fuck. Some of it has stuck with me (the pantheon, and some cosmology) but ultimately I decided I wasn’t interested in becoming an armchair academic whose practice was purely an intellectual exercise. There’s no point if you don’t find joy in what you’re doing. The Tuatha Dé will always be with me - just not in any way that’s so rigid.

Interwoven between all these things is a lot of Otherkin stuff. I am not going to get into it, but it’s certainly a part of who I am still. It’s just a bit convoluted, and just too personal to matter to anyone but me.

And these days there’s Lucifer, and Lilith, and Baphomet. I think it all started with simply feeling like Baphomet is a deity for the non-binary. Anything Satanic comes with a bunch of Christian baggage, which I have zero interest in engaging with, but at the same time I like rosaries and snakes and apples and the image of big satanic cathedrals. Heh. I’m not one to turn my nose up at a ready supply of ritual resonance, I guess. Like anything else, it’s not straightforward. Non-theistic Satanists are pretty quick to dismiss you as a credulous nitwit if you’re any flavour of theist. Some theistic folks are very over-the-top ooky-spooky doom cookies. And don’t get me started on the fascists hiding all the dark little corners they can find to fester in. So it's another community I won’t engage with too deeply. I’m too pagan, maybe, and I feel enough Horned God energy connected with Lucifer to acknowledge them as such. There’s a wild, feral, earthy energy to it all, and I’m here for it. This practice is still pretty new, so I’m still getting ahold of it. The whole of it feels like a call to live and enjoy life in the moment as it comes - and that you can live your best life out of sheer spite, in the face of those who would destroy you. I’m pretty good at denying myself pleasure so it’s challenging, but I’m up for it.

It’s all always in flux. I feel like primary focus these days goes to the Satanic stuff. It’ll be that way for a while, I think. When I downsized the shrines in the house in the spring I was relieved. Felt like lifting a weight off I hadn’t realized I was carrying. Everything’s good with my household gods, but they all seem content taking a step back and letting me make space for something new. The lack of coven meetings isn’t bothering me as much as it might have at one time. It feels like I need to code-switch to exist in that space, where I did not used to, and the thought makes me anxious. So I'm a little melancholy that some things I felt evoke connection and power and beauty and ecstasy aren’t raising the same energies and emotions anymore. My once very-pagan-following-the-Wheel of the Year altar space here in the bedroom is all dark gothic reds and purples most of the time. (I admit my palette for this altar type is very much lurid 70's occult novel cover.)

So yeah. Apologies if this meanders without sense. Just trying to keep one foot in front of the other, without having to stare at my feet as I walk. It’s somewhat of a relief as you get older that people don’t scrutinize you with the same levels of interest. You can exist a little more freely, messy spirituality and all. Less need for validation from those around you is also a relief.

I just want to be who I am, with joy, without judgement, without hesitation. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.

[laslow]

Get In Loser We're Going Shopping | Team Verdane

A drabble in which we earn a little bit more than we bargained for

The realization that things did not go to plan was of little surprise.

Honestly, he'd be surprised if things did go smoothly for once. All things considered, a shipwreck blowing them off course was nothing. A mere inconvenience!

Less so was the fact they lost some allies while gaining others. Laslow prays those swept away by the currents are faring safely wherever they washed up. It'll surely make for a grand story once they've all endured this latest adventure.

He sets his worries aside for now; there are more pressing matters at hand, like scrounging up a weapon or two. Utterly embarrassing, to lose his equipment. But perhaps a kind lady might take pity on him--a poor young man floundering ashore without a sword to protect himself! Yes, he can see it now, the compassion in a lovely pair of eyes, the tugging of the heartstrings--

Someone jostles his shoulder and ruins the illusion. There's a muttered sorry before they're swallowed up by the crowd. Laslow adjusts his jacket. For the best he doesn't get too lost in his head anyway. The bazaar is teeming with people, from sellers peddling their wares seated on colorful rugs to shoppers of all ages going about their day.

"Stay close," Laslow warns both Corrin and Hilda. They push through well enough, only slowing when they all notice an incredibly busy stall with a brightly dressed man at the center. He looks like he wants to stand out, despite the tinted glasses hiding half his expression. Bottles and vases containing suspicious liquids are arranged in haphazard order, and Laslow thinks it's a miracle no one has accidentally broken one.

Eventually, he catches the seller's attention.

"afternoon! could you direct me to the vulneraries, please?" The merchant smiles wide at Laslow's approach, and immediately begins bowing and gesturing and rubbing his hands together when he seems interested in what he has for sale. "Vulneraries? For what ailment? My child, you'll have to be more specific. I've a number of remedies -- warts, sunburn, bellyache, hair loss, sore feet... name your illness and I'll fix it, good as new! What shall it be?" laslow blinks a moment. the one for sore feet actually doesn't sounds too bad.... "oh, for general health! my friends and i just escaped a shipwreck, you see. it was all rather harrowing." it’s now that corrin pipes up, smiling despite the… strange energy of the man. “we were planning to travel towards…” a moment’s pause to pray she correctly remembered the name of their original destination, “grannvale, and we’re just looking to stock up for the journey.”

"A shipwreck? Oh! Yes, I did hear news of a bunch of foreigners coming ashore this morning." His smile seems to curl. "Now, I have just the thing for you. Those waves can be mighty rough." Nimble fingers pick through a sectioned box as he nods along to Corrin's request, lifting one thin vial of multi-colored liquid after another until finally finding one - a vibrant green - and plucks it from the batch. "Grannvale's quite a distance from here. Seven days might get you to the border, if you're on horseback. If you plan to walk, well..." He holds out the vial, his other hand poised under it palm-up like a stage. "This little concoction will melt away all of those pesky aches, and you won't feel any new ones for half a day at least. A must-have for any long journey. You'll feel like you're enveloped in a cloud!" “oh! how convenient.” damn. they’re going to be here a while. corrin leans closer, peering at the little vial for a moment. her expression is considerably less suspicious than it should be, probably. “i’ve never heard of anything like it. you must be quite skilled at your craft,” her head tilts, “how much would that run us, do you think?” news indeed travels fast. laslow isn't thrilled about the idea of riding horses for a week straight, but if it gets them to their destination faster, he'll deal with it. as nice as that green potion sounds, he can't help but wonder what else it may do. delay reaction times, slow down thought processes,... eyes flit to corrin. she really is too trusting. "you seem a knowledgeable man. do you know where we might find a map as well?" "Thirteen hundred for the vial. Good for one person." The merchant glances back to Laslow. "I don't sell maps, I'm afraid, but for a small fee, I can draw you one." "how much for the map?" laslow asks, doing his best to keep his suprise at bay. To this, the merchant thinks for a moment, a finger to his chin. Then he holds up two fingers. "Two hundred, and my handicraft will be yours."

As the merchant names his price, Hilda turns to him with her most disarming smile. “Wow! Your stock is so impressive.” She gestures to the array before laying a friendly hand on his arm. “But we lost so much in the storm…” Her expression falls to one more dejected as she turned to her allies. “I guess we’re out of luck if we want something of such high quality…”

The merchant is taken in by Hilda's wily charms and honeyed words. "Now, you must understand that I run a business, so I cannot simply part with my wares for free. However, I will extend to you a fraction of Nahan's generosity. If you purchase this vial, I will give you a discount. One thousand for it, and I will draw you a map to Grannvale for free." He then reaches over the table and grabs a heftier, long-necked bottle of what looks to be tarnished silver, but you know it couldn't possibly be made of material that precious. He sets it down in front of you beside the bright green vial. "And a sample of a special hair oil, just for you." His words bring a smile back to her face, her expression lighting up. “You mean it? Thank you! That’s such a generous offer.” She bats her eyelashes at him before turning back to the others. “But my friends here hold the coin purse. What do you think?” the most fortunate one here, corrin makes something of a show of fishing around in her pocket as if to further prove that she definitely did not have enough money for the previous price. it’s only a moment before she produces the proper sum, offering it forward with a grateful nod. “we cannot thank you enough, really.”The apothecary takes the money with a grateful bow. "My pleasure. I do hope you'll remember to stop by again before you embark for Grannvale."

Unknown concoction in hand, Laslow leads their little group to a weapons stall. Metal of all shapes and sizes gleams in neat rows. He itches to reach for a sword, excuses of "just testing it out!" poised on his lips when he catches sight of the woman clearly in charge.

Ruffles his hair just so before approaching “Hel-lo there! I couldn’t help but notice these lovely swords being sold by an even lovelier woman.” It's a blur after that--all the trepidation melts from her gaze, interest sparking instead. He recalls the phrases "eye candy" and "nice older lady" being used, but his mind is far too busy catching up with the fact she didn't threaten him with the very sharp weapon at arm's length the moment he opened his mouth. none of this is how he expects it to go. He turns red to the tips of his ears, barely managing not to look at corrin out of sheer embarrassment. (Learned the lesson a long time ago that some women don’t like it when you look at another girl while talking to girl #1) He stutters out a response. “Um. Uh. Well, thank you, my darling, for such a kind offer. I truly do need a weapon—how else can I fend off all the boys vying for your hand?” He throws in a wink for good measure. “Alas, I lost my own trusted blade in a shipwreck.” A dramatic sigh for effect "Well, we can't have that now can we?" She picks up the Slim Sword from her collection. "I've had trouble selling this one. There's nothing wrong with it, but most mercenaries and other battle-types who come through these streets are often looking for something far more valuable than what I have the supplies for. I've give it to you for an eighty-percent discount. 520." She glances up at him with a smile. "You'd look dashing with it, I think." Laslow nods. “I do happen to like my face where it is.” Returns her smile. “You’re far too sweet to be dealing with the likes of those ruffians, buttercup! Aww, you truly think so? May I try it on?” He also gestures to corrin, beckoning her closer. “My friend holds all the coins—she doesn’t trust me not to spend it all in one place.” He totally 100% “””accidentally””” lets their fingers brush Tests the balance/etc “It’s perfect! Thank you, darling. Say, can you tell me a little more about this town? We were headed for Grannvale when we were waylaid by a nasty storm.” "About Nahan? Not much to say. This village has always earned its keep from the sea. Been brought very nearly to ruin a couple times, but we've fared better than other parts of the country. You've come at a good time. It's the best it's ever been in these parts." “I’m included to agree, since I met you,” he says, fixing the sword to his belt. “Any word on that church? Sailors, of course, are full of superstitions, but one can never be to careful these days, eh?” At mention of the Church of Loptous, the woman's demeanor suddenly changes. She retracts from from Laslow with a mixture of fear and surprise. "Why are you asking about them?" She shakes her head. "No. No. Nothing. And that's the way it should stay, here." He holds his hands up in retreat “I’m so sorry, my darling. It was all the talk of the sailors. Thank you ever so kindly for all your help. Perhaps we should go out for tea some time, yeah?” She still seems visibly fluster, but the offer of tea seems to smooth things over a little. She laughs and calls him sweet, but ultimately declines because she does in fact have a husband. But Laslow is quite the handsome young thing.

The sword is a familiar weight at his hip on the walk back. He's still blushing by the time they all meet up in their room again.

[captainaikus]

MOVEOUT.

So this is something I've been thinking about for a while, and I'm planning to move to ao3 for getting my works out since I've been shadowbanned by tumblr, however that's not the only reason. Just my opinion on my blog and if you don't wanna read it, just scroll away.

I’ve come to realize that tumblr is not a space for my writings. I say this even if I’m glad to know that I have over 1k followers here, but at the same time what is the point of it? Over a period of time I also figured that the pace of consuming content here is not a normal one. Some of you do appreciate what I write and I’m thankful for that, but at the same time majority of the people out there demand for a part 2 to things when they haven’t bothered to interact with my content. I also don’t want to be responsible for checking my followers or to see that minors are interacting with my content despite my rules saying so when I'm here to write my content and leave it there.

Tumblr is more of an interactive platform among authors and readers alike and as you have noticed - I’m not a very interactive one. The only relationship I do care about here is the one between me and my readers since that is the sole reason I was here in the first place; Now talking about the author/ writer community here - it’s not a very healthy one either since there tends to be discourse, offensive bantering and sometimes even friendships falling apart when you don’t see eye to eye. Not to mention (and I'm not pointing fingers at one particular person but just people in general) behaviors get rubbed off really easily. And the last thing I need to see on my dash - normally or otherwise is that blank blogs are not allowed to follow them or pressure for readers to contribute to a fandom by reblogging their works. And I strongly believe that readers should do as they wish (as long as its not harming anyone) rather than being pressured to form an opinion based off someone else's. Not to mention, big time authors are entering small fandoms despite gaining huge followings in other fandoms which leaves very little chances for small time authors which makes it difficult for them to get their work out - not speaking out of my insecurity or anything but it’s a very unfair system. My move to ao3 also has to do with the fact that you can write comments or give kudos if you want, but you don't have to reblog to show your support to me. Just kudos and comments are enough. Another reason why my work isn't suited for tumblr is to do with the fact that the place has become too predictable with a lot of smut just for the sake of getting likes or follows and for the sake of algorithm as well. It's been two years since i've read any decent fics now and I don't even search the tags anymore. Erotica is a piece of writing but honestly, writing has been lost here as there is more emphasis on the prior compared to the plot and the plot is something my focus is on in a story.

Ever since I started writing for blue lock, there have been reports of my works being flagged down and due to that my interactions and the pace of my uploads have died down. With that being said, my space (and tumblr) has turned toxic, with people wanting to leave rude comments, accuse me that I’m plagiarizing author’s works and arguing about it in my askbox - without even spending a moment to think that we write for the same genre and we’re allowed to have coinciding themes as well as dialogues. When it comes down to me checking the tags to see if my work has showed up, I see a lot of authors paraphrasing my work and sometimes writing lines similar to what I wrote in my fics. Where’s the protection for my dignity or pointing out to them that they’ve taken my work?

Nothing. Just silence.

That’s not the only thing I’m upset about. It’s also to do with the lack of sensitivity some people have here. I take time out of my day to write these fics. I spend energy on what I write going through every line and making sure that I have it right and what do you do? Take 2 minutes out of your day to report my work - something that I spend hours on despite having a busy work life. Do you not think how much it can hurt a person to see their hard work go to waste like that? It’s just proving that some of your immaturity is very underserving for my writing despite me writing my pieces for you since its a self insert. And I don’t want to interact or know people like that cause it disgusts me. Not to mention, its an act of cowardice since you're hiding on the other side of the screen while I'm out here making my content and enjoying my interactions. To people who report my writing and send me hateful asks : For the record, you didn't make me quit writing. You just showed me how fucking sorry and pitiful you are, the fact that you would be a miserable wretch to live with and that no one likes you; it makes me wonder how pathetic you are in real life if this is how you are online. Now with my move to ao3, I can create my own content without having to worry about what I write or if I'm copying someone else's writings cause I'll be sticking to my dash and my works. And here I can upload anytime and take the pace that I like rather being rushed into it.

So question is... what am i going to do with this blog? Stay active. People are interested in my works - so i'm gonna make announcements and release early spoilers for my writings on ao3 here as well as interact better with my readers who want to stay on anon or off it along with opinions and feedback based on my work. Other than that, i also want to continue hosting character interviews/ asks and matchups with every milestone i hit! This ends with my official moveout to ao3. And I hope you enjoy my writings there !!

[loved2]

Today marks 4 years since my mother passed. Haha so cliche but it truly feels just like yesterday. Everything has changed and yet i can’t remember a time it didn’t feel like this. I don’t know who i was before this. I know who i am now tho, luckily. This month has been so transformative. I haven’t felt this good since August. Everything after that was either depressive + burnt out or fun but chaotic. Feb brought me balance and finally some peace. I did a lot of little things this month instead of my usual Big Productive Energy and it has truly made me feel content. I don’t feel like i’m fighting for anything anymore. I just am. And god i have been waiting for this feeling for so long. I also finally am ready to relaunch my main business again and i am so excited to see how it goes. I’m feeling very secure & calm. I also found some love.. it’s too early to speak on it but it has made my days far more beautiful. Been journaling & reading more than usual and i love it. I’ve been very present. I remember almost everything that happened. This feels so good. I wish i could feel this way more often.. hoping i will. Also did a lot of inner work and i have never felt more safe in my body + absolutely unfazed by anything physical like who gives a fuck about this shit anyway. Idk how to explain it but in the simplest terms, i finally feel spiritual again. Yknow when everything seems out of alignment or life is just very stagnant and you’re just looking for something revolutionary to happen or a full circle moment to gain some momentum again and just a brief “oh.. god does exist” yeah.. i finally had my moment lol. Beyond grateful. Hoping and praying for March to be beautiful. 4 years ago and last year March were the absolute worst for me. 369 haha lets hope thats why it was so fucked. 4 years ago my mother passed unexpectedly and last year my (ex)bestie moved across the globe and 2 days later i got robbed at gunpoint in my home and lost everything including everything i inherited from my mother, which was a lot to say the least. Absolutely devasting but life goes on i guess. Reflecting on this time last year i don’t think i could care any less about material things than i already did. Like i adore all of this but what is it really. But oh well i will continue to have a beautiful human experience whenever i can so yes i still deeply value these things but also who cares you know. This is also the first time in a year that i don’t have lashes, biab, toe ext & my hair done for longer than a month and i finally know what i truly look like again & feel comfortable in my skin. Lots of cooking & baking too thats when i know i’m in love lmaooo yikes. This new month also marks a year that i’ve had my little baby angel Jupiter (my dog) and life has been beautiful ever since and alsooo my little (FIRST) niece is turning 1 on the 5th eeekkk and we’re having an out of town party so excited. N e way wishing you all a beautiful, fruitful March love youuu 🤍

[imjust-toosoft-forall-ofit]

My roommate just turned 20 and he says this thing like “You know you’re in your 20s when you wake up tired”

And the thing is I’m almost 30. I know. I’ve been knowing. But for me, I’ve been waking up tired my whole life.

Like i can’t remember a time i felt truly rested and ready for the world. Im always tired. Im always overwhelmed. Im always repeating “just another hour” to myself, counting down til i can allow myself rest.

And im fighting the psychiatry field rn to gain some semblance of a quality of life. Because i know this isn’t normal. I know it’s not normal to be 6 and fantasizing about a long sleep where i dont have to do anything. I know its not normal to have panic attacks about going to school and work. I know its not normal to forget most of my life because it’s how my brain knows to protect me from the stress of daily life. I dont have friends, i dont have the energy to try to have friends. I barely can attend to my job and my home at the same time. Every year i slip farther, my care needs get bigger and i lost more and more of any support system i have. Its compounding and i cant keep living like this. I don’t see a point.

[shartsandpain]

Hello, Void? It’s me.

I’ve had this account for a while and done precisely fuck all with it. Lately, I’ve felt an increasing need to scream into the void. Then I figured, what better void than the internet and what better scream than tumblr. Let’s bring back that old school Live Journal energy. So I am not really sure where this will go, most likely incoherent ramblings. I’m not under any illusions that the way I feel or think about things is special or unique or that I can write about them any better than anyone else. So anyway, the long and the short of it is, I have completely lost faith in humanity. Years ago, my first wife asked me what I believed in. I told her I believed in people, that I had faith in humanity. To be fair, I was in my 20s and things were generally looking up for us as a species. In retrospect, I was naive. Then, right wing fuck-nuggets started gaining press and momentum in the US. It wasn’t that I was unaware there were right wingnuts in the US, I grew up seeing the Oklahoma City Bombing aftermath live. I lived in the same general area as the leader of a regional militia group. But with the rise of the Tea Party, then the Freedom Caucus, Palin, then Trump, it seemed like so many people suddenly felt they had permission to publicly and loudly be their absolute worst selves.

The amplification of ‘I got mine, fuck you’, ‘fuck your feelings’, ‘you can’t force me to do anything’ into the mainstream consciousness. This shift from civic and community responsibility (or at least the illusion of it) to the mentality of, as a friend puts it: Some people don’t care if they are living under a highway overpass cooking a pigeon over a garbage fire as long as the person next to them doesn’t have a pigeon.

I’m not sure what to do with this knowledge. The knowledge that so many people around us have absolutely no empathy or compassion for anyone around them. That right wing fascist fuckheads are gaining support and are emboldened. That any of the gains for  LGBTQ+, women, the environment, workers are being hammered away.

It is utterly disheartening that so many people simply do not give a fuck or are openly hostile. That so many people wish harm on others. On people I care deeply about. We are being worn down by greed and self interest. And at a time when we should be banding together lifting each other up, so many people have fractured off and actively work to make things worse for others.

[asktheforgottenpony]

Hey guys! As promised, here is a holiday drawing! However, there will be more to come! As I continue to answer some of the asks I’ve already have in my ask box, you’ll see where I’m getting at. However, even if the holidays are over… there is something else approaching…. The New Year! It’s weird how time goes by so fast….. this year has been a rough ride.

!TRIGGER WARNING!

!TRIGGER WARNING!

I will like to say now I will be explaining some triggering stuff that involve self harm/ or death. If your not into reading that, than please don’t read the following words and read the third paragraph instead. For those who are okay with that kind of stuff, Then yes… this year did take a beating on me. Through this whole pandemic, I had to give up 2 years of what would have been my high school experience. I’m not saying I’m the only person who had to go through the same things I did, I’m sure there are others who can relate or probably had to sacrifice more than me. But yes, for those 2 years of being away from my friends and hardly getting any physical contact from others that are not in my household, it took a toll on my mentality. I will not get into too much details for the sake of not wanting to bring out old wounds, but I did try to harm myself. I was at my deepest levels of struggling to graduate as well as keeping a happy face so others couldn’t see I was practically falling apart. I wasn’t only emotionally drained, but I was restless, I would sacrifice hours of sleep just to do school work. To give you the idea of what kind of hell I put myself through, here is a rough summary. There are 24 hours a day, Get up at 5am, work until 12pm, take a 30 minute break, work until 12am, sleep, repeat. Sometimes I would get up at 3am instead of 5am if I failed to do some stuff I was already behind on… and clearly… you can see that isn’t really healthy. When barely functioning on a few hours of sleep, as well as running on any energy drink I could get my hands on, it was making me tip on my breaking point to lead me down that dark path….. It was one of the darkest points of my life…. However… I overcame those inner demons…. I made the choice of getting help. As much as it really wasn’t help, it really did break me away from that dark area I was in. I even experienced some personal lost as well, family, family friends, even strangers that I know from their content. It was truly a wild fire…. There are more stuff I wish I could say but I rather leave that be….

! Trigger warning over !

! Trigger warning over !

After all of that, here I am now, a college student. A college student that is focusing on building their future, as well has getting adjusted to family roles. Even when there is death, there is life. I’ve gained 2 new family members, which I now will have to see to it that I give them the support that they need in the near future that they’ll need whenever they need me. Not only am I going to support these new bundles of life, but as well to those who I’m already familiar with. My friends, my little sibling, and to YOU. Yes you…. Yes the one that’s reading this…. I’m talking to you. I may not know who you are, but if there is something bothering you, don’t be afraid to reach out to me. If you need someone to hear your rant, I’m more than happy to lend you my ear. As much as I wish I was given the support I needed when growing up, even now, I’m more than happy to give someone else that support that I needed when I tried looking for it. If there is anything that I can take away from this year, is don’t be afraid to ask for help.

Asking for help doesn’t mean your weak, We’re all human. We all breathe the same air, we all bleed, we all walk on the same earth, we’re human. We grow and learn, so don’t ever feel ashamed when asking for help. Asking for help is the most human thing that you could ever do. If it does make you feel weak or your hesitate on doing so, just do it. it doesn’t hurt to try.

As I’ve said before, this year has been a wild ride, and hopefully next year won’t be so different. Next year, hopefully, I’ll be in university, maybe get a tattoo or a new piercing, meet someone, go on a trip, who knows what the year has in store for me. Who knows what this new year has in store for you…. As we say goodbye to this year, I want you think about everything that’s happened to you this year and embrace this new year approaching us. Say goodbye to your last years self and welcome the new year you… if that makes any sense lol. I know I’m still going to be running this blog, I still have so much I want to show you all. Hopefully I’ll get better at drawing too lol. I can’t wait to see what this new year could bring, hopefully I’ll even get to know one of you out there as we begin our new journey. As for now, I hope you know you are loved, and that you make me so proud. Love one another, treat everyone equally, spread the love, drink some water, and get some rest, and I’ll see you all on the flip side!

[angelplayzgames]

Omg

I found my old writing

Here it is

Yes, Tommy is TommInnit.

Hush, I grew out of the phase too late.

This is just for fun ._.

I’ll come back and add to this and make it better later on.

Tommy was exploring the woods, searching for some more spruce trees to fix what’s left of his house. Ever since he started looking for the wood, he just seemed to get more and more lost. In the distance, Tommy spotted a giant mountain, there were some villages nearby that could provide him some potential food and shelter for the time being. But there was something about this mountain that made him curious.

He started to climb the mountain, nearly falling off and dying a couple of times. It took a lot of energy out of him, but after what seemed like hours. He finally made it to the top. He wanted to take a moment to rest, when he looked back up. He had found the thing he was looking for. A spruce tree,

“Eh? What’s a spruce doing up here? I mean I might as well take it–” Was the last thing Tommy said before falling down into a hole in the mountain, he seemed to fall for minutes. He braced himself for the worst as he neared the ground.

Tommy slowly unclenched his eyes and looked around, had he not taken any fall damage? He was very confused on why his inventory looked weird now, all of his items were gone. It was as if he had fallen into another world.

“Well shit,” he sighed dusting himself off, “why the fuck are there flowers here?”

He had heard of lucky coincidences before, but this!? It was like someone had planned for him to fall down here. Tommy decided to examine his surroundings, it looked like a cave of somesorts. He had been in caves before, but there was something about this one that made a chill crawl down his spine. As he walked further into the cave, he spotted a yellow luminescent floating star.

“What the fuck?” Tommy muttered to himself, he hesitantly approached this weird object. Watching as it spun around endlessly. Tommy looked around to see if anything was going to attack him, when he thought the coast was clear, he shakily brought his hand out and touched the star.

A big black text box popped up. It startled Tommy a bit, but he saw two options.

[Save] [Return]

He tilted his head in a mix of confusion and curiosity. He slowly stepped up and pressed [Save]

When he retracted his palm off of the button, it made a sound. He didn’t really know how to describe it. Tommy looked up and was surprised to see a doorway, it had a royally purplish colour to it. He noticed how there was a neat symbol etched into the arch.

Did someone else live here? I’ve been alone in this world for as long as I can remember. He thought to himself.

After mulling over his options, he decided to walk through the doorway.

He had a look of surprise when he saw a flower, with a face? It was smiling at him, yet despite its friendly appearance, something felt wrong about it. Other than the fact it was literally a flower with a face.

“Howdy!” The sudden greeting took Tommy by surprise, he looked around nervously before responding with a confused, “Ello?”

“Golly! You’re new to the Underground aren't cha?” The flower swayed its head from side to side keeping up his friendly facade. “The name’s Flowey! Flowey the flower!” Flowey gave a huge uncanny grin, Tommy was slightly unsettled by this.

“Heheh, guess little ol’ me will have to teach you how things work around here!” The flower laughed, it sounded a bit forced.

The area around Tommy and Flowey turned black, and monochromatic, the only thing in his line of sight, was Flowey and..

“You see that? That’s your SOUL, the culmination of your being!” Flowey used his leaves to point to the red heart, “Your SOUL starts off weak, but can grow stronger when you gain a lot of LOVE.” The flower continued, Tommy tilted his head at the mentioning of LOVE, FLowey wasn’t seeming to be explaining the love he knows of.

“Down here, LOVE is shared through little white,” the flower seemed to think the word to explain, “friendliness pellets.” The way Flowey worded “friendliness pellets” made Tommy feel like he was getting manipulated, he’s been a puppet for Dream long enough to know when someone is lying.

“Move around, get as many as you can!” Flowey smiled and the white pellets started to move towards his SOUL. Instinctively he moved out of the way, and the pellets flew past him. Tommy watched Flowey’s expression falter for a moment,

“Buddy,” the yellow flower sighed, annoyed, “ya missed them.” He tried to throw the white magical pellets at Tommy again, to which only made Tommy less trusting of Flowey.

As soon as the last of the pellets flew past Tommy, Flowey’s friendly facade completely dropped.

“You know what’s going on around here,” the flower crept closer to Tommy, “you just wanted to see me suffer.” The flower’s expression contorted in ways that made Tommy feel uneasy. “In this world,” Tommy felt the area around him shrink, he was no fan of tight spaces.

“It’s kill or be killed.” Flowey began laughing maniacally, “H-Hey! Wh-What are you doing?!” He called out to the menacing flower, but the pellets kept coming closer and closer to him, he was unable to move. His claustrophobia was starting to get the best of him, Tommy closed his eyes and braced for the worst.

But it didn’t happen, he looked up at Flowey and had the same confused expression he wore. Suddenly, a fireball came out of seemingly nowhere and hit Flowey, causing him to fly off into the distance. Tommy was so confused about what just happened.

He heard the sound of someone approaching, he stepped back slightly startled on who could possibly be coming. Out of the shadows, stepped out a tall goat lady, she wore the same symbol he saw on the doorway.

“What a terrible creature, torturing such a poor innocent youth.” She spoke, Tommy felt at ease when he saw her.

“I am TORIEL, caretaker of the RUINS.” She introduced herself, Tommy tilted his head at the sight of Toriel.

“Let me guide you, my home isn’t that far away,” She finished before walking into another one of those fancy doorways. Tommy didn’t know whether he could trust Toriel just yet, well yeah she did just save his ass. But it could be a trap, a setup of some sorts.

Tommy felt compelled to follow the goat lady for some reason. As he hesitantly passed through the doorway, he was greeted by Toriel who waited expectantly. Tommy opened his mouth to say something, but Toriel walked away before he could manage a sound. She was leading him into the entrance to the RUINS. Compared to Toriel, Tommy was at least a foot taller than her. Tommy noticed another one of those stars, he pressed [SAVE].

He heard an ominous voice. You are filled with DETERMINATION.

“Huh..? Who was that..?”

“Did you say something my child?” Toriel asked, Tommy wasn’t a fan of being called a child, but he didn’t really want to make an enemy, so he just complied. “N-No Toriel.” He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. Toriel nodded and continued through the RUINS.

“When you’re in the RUINS, you are bound to come into battle with other monsters, when that happens, strike up a friendly conversation. There is a practice dummy over there.”

Tommy looked over at the old beat up dummy, he sighed knowing that if he didn’t talk to this old thing, Toriel wouldn’t let him continue any further.

And just as he expected, he entered a battle.

Tommy noticed four buttons in front of him. [FIGHT] [ACT],[ITEM] and [MERCY] buttons.

He looked expectantly at Toriel, who just smiled at him confusedly. Tommy sighed and decided to press [ACT], [TALK], nothing happened. Toriel seemed pleased with him so he decided to never speak of that again.

“There are many puzzles in the RUINS, I will solve this one for you.” Toriel smiled before completing the puzzle. After she flicked the lever, the door seemingly opened on cue. Tommy was amazed by this, he’d never been one for redstone, but this was amazing. He wondered if he was even in Minecraft anymore. Everything looked so foreign. Toriel gestured for him to follow her, as she disappeared into the next room. Tommy continued to follow the goat lady.

“I will teach you how to get used to these puzzles, I even marked the one you need to flip.”

She nodded before walking to the end of the hallways. Tommy noticed the flowing water under the bridge, he felt at ease hearing it gently trickling. That’s when he noticed the yellow lever with many, many arrows pointing to it.

Tommy flipped the lever, and noticed a couple more just up ahead. He made his way over to the two levers. There were multiple arrows pointing to the one of the left, Tommy looked back at Toriel, who was waiting expectantly. He let out a sigh and flipped the obviously marked lever.

Toriel smiled sweetly and led him to the next room. Suddenly, a white frog popped out of nowhere. Tommy was in a battle again.

FROGGIT

Tommy decided to press [ACT], he saw three new buttons, [CHECK], [COMPLIMENT], and [THREATEN]. The spite inside of him wanted him to click [THREATEN], but he looked back up at the froggit and sighed. But instead of the fight being over when he clicked it, Toriel appeared in the battle and gave a cruel look to the frog, who responded with a terrified sulk, as it slowly crept away.

[YOU WON!]

[0 EXP! 0 GOLD!]

“I’m afraid this puzzle is going to be a bit dangerous,” Toriel sighed fearfully, looking back at Tommy who tilted his head in confusion, “I have an idea, take my hand.” The goat lady offered Tommy her hand, to which Tommy hesitantly held on. Toriel began to complete the spiked puzzle. Tommy stepped fearfully over the spikes.

[eazy-group]

Update: Cassie lost more than 100 pounds

New Post has been published on https://eazydiet.net/update-cassie-lost-more-than-100-pounds/

Update: Cassie lost more than 100 pounds

Cassie lost 100+ pounds. We recently reached out to her, asking her to share how she’s maintained her success despite challenges. Incorporating the 80/20 rule into her eating plan and working out five days a week are two of the healthy habits she’s embraced.

Social Media: Instagram: @coc1986 YouTube: https://youtube.com/user/cassiec1986

Check out the feature we did on Cassie’s journey back in 2022.

What is your current weight? 281 pounds

How have you maintained your weight loss/continued to lose weight? Despite some challenges, I’ve maintained my weight loss by exercising five days a week (strength three times a week and walking daily), intermittent fasting, and sticking to the 80/20 rule for my eating habits (clean eating 80% of the time with 20% for my fav treats in moderation and slight calorie deficit). I do take breaks periodically to increase my calorie intake. 

Of the lessons you’ve learned on your journey, which one stands out the most at this point?  The scale only plays a small role in your journey. It will never show you the big picture of your progress. Trust me, I have walked down this road many times, and I would beat myself if I didn’t see the number on the scale move. I would do some unhealthy things to get the number to go down (like not eating, trying any fasting diet I thought I could do, excessive amounts of cardio). All I did was put my body in survivor mode. 

I gained all the weight back and then some. This journey is not just about losing weight. You have to approach it as an overall wellness journey. You want to ensure you are mentally prepared, spiritually grounded, and ready to be consistent. You also have to be prepared to be comfortable with the discomfort of pushing your body to a comfortable but challenging limit. You have the ability to create the body you want, but don’t allow the scale to be in control of how you walk on this path of reaching your goals.

Would you like to offer any new or different advice to women who want to lose weight? Stay consistent…even when you don’t have the energy or strength to keep going…stay consistent! And consistency may not always be the same each week…you may have a few days off but the following week you accomplish all of your goals you set for yourself. We are always our own worst critic, and we have to stop picking ourselves apart! Let’s start working on giving ourselves more grace! Never give up on yourself!

  These are the affirmations I repeat to myself on my journey. I hope they help you with yours, too.  I am confident and comfortable in my own skin.

I am beautiful, confident, and loved.

I’m so grateful for my healthy and strong body.

I will be gentle and kind to myself.

I believe in myself.

I am peaceful and whole.

I am allowed to take care of myself.

Anything worth having takes time.

I am capable and strong.

God wants me to take care of my vessel and treat it with respect.

I am enough.

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