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minarisplaything · 4 months

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High Rise ft. IVE Wonyoung

Pairing: IVE Wonyoung x Male Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2.4k Tags: Daddy kink, Exhibitionism, Choking A/N: i said i would didn't i? probably the fastest i've made a fic recently which also means please excuse any grammar or spelling mistakes you find. might not be my best work but it sure was fun to write o7 Disclaimer: this is a work of fiction/parody

Dating a k-pop idol wasn’t easy. Especially when you were a so-called commoner. There were the obvious reasons, like you had to keep your relationship a secret until they reached their thirties, if you made it that long.And the not-so-obvious reasons; like watching your girlfriend parade around in sexy stage outfits and having to contain your desire to fuck her in them.

Or maybe that was just you.

When your girlfriend was Jang Wonyoung, a hyper-popular It girl – you cringed at even thinking those words aloud – the restrictions were even worse. Like that one time you had wanted to bring her flowers at her group's concert in Seoul and had to be snuck backstage with a bag over your head. Or the time someone had caught the two of you flirting candidly and Wonyoung blurted out that you were her cousin to save face. Embarrassing but somehow also cute when it came from her.

All this was to say it wasn’t easy.

But it certainly wasn’t without its benefits.

“Fuck, that one looks so good, princess,” you praised.

You snapped another photo as Wonyoung posed, biting her bottom lips and giving the camera a smoldering look. She hooked her fingers into her hip-hugging jeans, tugging them slightly as you quickly snapped another series of photos.

Honestly, you were somewhat shocked when Wonyoung told you her idea. It had felt provocative, mature even, and thus far each photo had proved that assumption right. But you rarely, if ever said no to her, even if her motivations were somewhat questionable. In fact, you wondered if this was all your fault.

“You left a like on Yuna-nim’s photo,” Wonyoung had said at the time. Her tone carried an accusatory hint.

“Did I?” you had stammered, trying to play naive. “I was just scrolling my feed and must’ve double tapped.”

“So you follow them?”

“Them?”

“Other girl groups,” Wonyoung clarified.

One thing you had learned about the IVE princess was that while she was sweet as a button on most days, she carried a jealous streak that verged on volatile. Sharing was not in her programming, least of all when it came to you.

You had recognized the trap forming but it had been too late. “Well, I mean, just to keep up. You know you do challenges sometimes and appear on their feeds.”

Her arms crossed over her chest, hip cocked to the side and slight pout was all the answer you needed.

That week you had gone without any physical contact from your girlfriend. Though she made sure to send you the filthiest selfies possible throughout. Which, oddly, worked. Because no matter how much you touched yourself to the photos she sent, it didn’t compare to the real thing.

It had seemed like the incident was over and in the past but as you snapped a few more photos of Wonyoung by the windowsill, you briefly wondered if this stemmed from it as well.

“Are you sure you’re going to post these on Instagram?” you asked, after a particularly racy photo.

“Mhm,” Wonyoung nodded. “It’s nothing I haven’t done before. Remember the bathroom?”

“Oh, I remember.”

You also remembered the ones that hadn’t made it to social media and were sent directly to you. But this still felt even more daring than this.

“How many likes do you think this will get?” she asked, coolly, giving the camera a sultry look. An innocent question. At least on the surface. But you remembered her comment one night as you two relaxed together.

“Besides, it’s to promote the sponsor, that’s all. This will get the most engagements,” she added. Her gaze dropped and a small smirk formed on her lips, “In fact, I’d say it’s already working.”

You followed her gaze, looking down to see a rather obvious tent had formed in your sweatpants. You laughed, a flush coloring your cheeks. “Well, shit. Can you blame me?”

“I guess I can’t,” Wonyoung said coolly.

The way she unbuttoned the top button of her jeans, spoke to more mischief however.

“Wony,” you wet your dry lips, “Are we still doing the shoot?”

“Mhm “ she nodded cutely, “Of course.”

She did another pose, pushing the waist of the jeans down to expose the lace underwear she had on underneath.

“You know, I love it up here. It’s perfect,” Wonyoung said. “Don’t you agree?”

“Yeah…” you muttered, more focused on the sight of her exposed abs and smooth skin than her question.

By here she was referring to the penthouse you were using for the photoshoot. Funny enough, she could easily afford a place like this on her own. Though that would only spur on more talk about inequality among the rookie group.

“Being so high up…” she turned her head to look out the window. Your breath caught as you watched delicate fingers slip inside of her jeans. “We can see everything but no one can see us. Even if we were naked against this window they’d never know…”

Now you weren’t the smartest bulb in the room. In fact, sometimes you wondered if it was your self-proclaimed himbo status that Wonyoung liked most about you. But even you could put two and two together. And Wonyoung’s words combined with the side-eyed glance she was giving you were all screaming one thing.

“I could show my naked body to all of Seoul and no one. would. know.”

Her tongue pronounced every syllable while she locked eyes with you. As sweet and kind as Wonyoung could be she had an undeniable minx side to her. You were also fairly certain your girlfriend got off on the power high of being such a desired person but you had never actually confirmed that.

If you were starting to get hard when she pointed it out earlier, you were practically aching now. You tossed your phone onto the couch and made your way over to where Wonyoung was by the window. She let out a delighted squeal as you pushed her up against the glass, kissing her passionately.

Your hands moved against her stomach, feeling her toned abs that were shown off by the outfit she was wearing. Honestly, you should send a bouquet to whatever designer sent this to her to promote. You nipped at Wonyoung's bottom lip, your hands sliding into her unbuttoned pants to squeeze her ass.

"It took you long enough," Wonyoung gasped, mischief gleaming in her eyes. "I thought was going to have to beg you to fuck me."

Your cock twitched, straining painfully against your jeans, "You still could you know."

She must have been in a good mood because the idol looked at you with large eyes, biting on her bottom lip. "Please fuck me against the window, daddy."

Oh.

You see, it had taken some time but you learned that your girlfriend had two modes. The arrogant queen who knew all of Seoul was her playground and made you worship at her feet. Then there was the submissive princess who begged to be pleased until she was satisfied. Often her mood was some mixture of the two but neither one left you unsatisfied.

"If that's what the Princess wants," you growled.

A delighted smile crossed the idol's features followed by another joyful squeal when you spun her around to face the window. Her hands rose, catching herself as she turned her head to look over her shoulder. You could see the aroused flush creeping up her neck and coloring her round cheeks.

"Didn't you say something about showing everyone your tits?" you whispered in her ear.

Not waiting for a response, you pulled her top down, exposing her tits to the cool glass of the window earning a gasp from Wonyoung in response. You pressed further against her, the bulge in your pants pushing against her ass.

"This whole shoot was just to rile me up, wasn't it?" you said, your breath hot against the shell of her ear. Your hands moved quickly to yank the jean pants she was wearing, exposing the white lace panties that she had teased you with a peek of earlier.

"Maybe," Wonyoung mewled, arching her back perfectly.

Your hands hooked into the waistband of her panties, sliding them down to reveal her bare ass to your hungry gaze, "Bullshit. You knew what you were doing."

"Maybe I just wanted to remind you of what's right in front of you," she said.

There it was. That switch up she was capable of. It also confirmed your theory that your girlfriend hadn't exactly forgiven and forgotten about the Instagram incident. Well, there was no time better than now to put the matter to bed. You gripped your cock, slipping it between her legs to get it slick from her dripping sex.

"Oh, I'm well aware of what's in front of me," you started. Slowly you began to slip your thick cock inside of her, inch by inch with each syllable. "The most beautiful." More. "Talented." More. "Gorgeous." More. "Perfect." More. "Princess."

"Fuck!" Wonyoung moaned, her forehead bracing against the window.

"Is the princess feeling full?"

"So, so full…" she cooed.

"And I didn't even get to mention how good a girlfriend you are," you teased.

You could feel her pussy quivering around your length, stretching to accommodate the familiar intrusion of your cock. Wonyoung's hands were splayed against the windows of the high-rise, her ass pushed out and into you. She was on full display and only you were lucky enough to see it.

You could take it slow with steady, languid strokes, gently fucking your girlfriend against the window. But something told you that wasn't what she nor you wanted at that moment. Your fingers flexed around her waist, pulling out your cock until just the tip remained inside of her before thrusting your entire length back inside of her. Wonyoung's body jolted with pleasure as she braced her nude body against the window.

"This is what you wanted isn't it?" Harder. "To know how much you turn me on." Faster. "To see how fucking hard you get me." Deeper. "No one else makes me like this." Repeat.

A mixture of mewls and moans fell from the idol's mouth at your relentless rhythm. Her head fell forward, her cheek pressed up against the glass. Perspiration was starting to form across her flawless skin and you had to resist the urge to lean forward and lick it up. You wanted to prove a point, to fuck Wonyoung to the point of exhaustion for the whole city to see. After that maybe you'd enjoy the little perversions.

"You probably say that to every - fuck - every girl," Wonyoung panted, glancing at you from over her shoulder. "You're probably just waiting to move onto the next idol you're drooling over."

She didn't say it with enough conviction for you to believe she truly felt that way. For starters, while Wonyoung may get jealous, she was not insecure. At least, not enough to ever think another idol was above her. It was more often a toxic possessive kind of jealousy. But nonetheless, in the heat of the moment you'd take the bait.

"Is that what you think?" he said, your breathing growing heavy with your harsh thrust. Conversation wasn't exactly easy at this pace. "Did you miss what I said earlier, huh?"

One hand moved from her waist to slip around Wonyoung's throat. She inhaled sharply, her breath catching in her throat as you squeezed. For a passing second there was no sound save for the repeated slaps of skin against skin as your hips were flush against Wonyoung's ass each time you entered her.

"I only want you," you finally gasp. "Always you."

Rather than another vulgar display to go along with your words, you merely lean over her, capturing her lips in a sideways kiss. It's messy and imperfect but it's also loving and passionate. Your tongues dance together all while your bodies remain intertwined. You can feel Wonyoung pussy quivering around your cock intensely as she moans into your mouth. When you pull back, you look at your girlfriend with a raised eyebrow.

"Did you just cum from that?" you asked.

"S-shut up," Wonyoung retorted. You noticed a bright red hue of embarrassment coloring her cheeks before she hid her face, "Don't stop until you finish inside of me,"

It was always adorable when she continued trying to be dominant after her own orgasm. However, her words had an undeniable effect on you. "If that's what the princess wants."

You returned to the task at hand, focusing your efforts solely on chasing your first release and Wonyoung's second orgasm.

"Daddy," Wonyoung mewled, finding her voice. "I want you to cum, daddy. I want you to cum deep inside my tight pussy.""

You had a sinking suspicion that her words were payback for causing her embarrassing moments earlier. Her attempt at provoking you to blow your load sooner than you had intended to.

Regardless it worked to immediate effect. Your hips jerked, slamming against hers from behind. Your sweat-drenched body pressed flush against Wonyoung, pushing her up against the high-rise window. Your cock twitched, ropes of your sticky seed shooting inside of her womb as her walls convulsed around your length.

Of course the two things that pushed her over the edge would be you saying how you loved her and her revelling the power she had to make you cum on the spot. Truly a representative of her duality.

After a moment had passed and you began to regain your bearings you pressed a kiss to Wonyoung's shoulder.

"That was incredible, Wony," you muttered.

"I know," she said, her form practically radiating. "You weren't bad either."

You let out a chuckle, placing another lazy kiss to her skin, "Maybe we should've included that in the photoshoot."

Wonyoung smiled but didn't immediately respond. After a moment of delay she turned in your arms to look at you.

"Did you mean all those things you said?" she asked.

Her wide eyes looked at you and you reached up to brush aside a strand of sweat soaked hair. There was no hesitation in your response when you answered her.

"Absolutely. And don't you think otherwise for a second."

A smile beamed across the idol's face and she leaned forward, burying her face into your neck. Your arms wrapped around her and quietly you wondered if you weren't the luckiest man in the world.

BUY ME A COFFEE - if you enjoy my stories considering buying me a coffee! always appreciated, never required.

#wonyoung smut #ive smut #girl group smut #ive imagines #wonyoung imagines #ive x reader #male reader #wonyoung x male reader

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whoreburslut · 6 months

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For day 5 you could do table sex where Wilbur is writing songs for lovejoy and he wants inspiration so he calls the y/n and it carries on from there

Kinktober: Day 5

•table sex

gender neutral reader

sorry iv taken so long to write another part

(request kinda?)

recently wilbur had been at the studio a lot more than normal, staying late and going early. this has been happening for a few weeks now he claims it’s because the new ep is nearly done, but you’ve not heard one demo and he always gets your seal of approval on all the songs.

one morning you hear wilbur leave your shared flat early so nothing out of the usual, but you remember him saying he would be the only one in the studio today as the other boys were busy, this would give wil some time to work on some lyrics. you decide you should go down there today and take him lunch, maybe you could get a sneak peak of a song as well.

you get ready and leave the house to the subway, picking up your favourite orders then redirecting your self to the studio. when you arrive you knock before entering, “come in” you hear your boyfriends agitated voice just as you push open the door. he’s at the desk in front of a screen his head is in his hands that have a tight grip on his hair, a thing he often does when he’s stressed.

you proceeded further in to the room setting the bag on the desk, standing behind him you rest your hands on his shoulders and start to apply pressure hoping to soothe him with a small massage. he leans back in his chair and lets his neck fall back also while letting a small moan slip from his mouth, as the tension from his shoulders is taken.

your eyes widen at the noise you know it wasn’t at all sexual but heat travel to your core nonetheless, wilbur slowly opens his eyes looking up at you to see why you’ve stopped, he analyses your face seeing your face red with blush and in thought. he spins around in the chair so he’s facing you looking up at you so slightly, with a devilish smirk on his face he says “did that little noise turn you on darling” his voice raspy form all the singing he’s done.

you press your thighs together to try and hide your arousal but this only make it more noticeable to wil exactly how you were feeling, he slowly rises from his chair making the hight difference significant. he leans down to connect your lips is a kiss, once they pull away a string of saliva connects you, he turns you around so you both are now facing the wall your back pressed against wilburs front.

wil puts his hand on the back of your head and slowly pushes you down so you’re bent over the table, he slowly slides your top up so your bare nipples are on the table, slowly hardening with the coldness of the table you gasp at the feeling.

he slowly drags the pants over your ass and down your legs and taps you leg indicating you to separate them. he runs his hands over your ass cheeks and you start to wiggle your hips, as you are now craving to just be touched down where you need it the most. you feel him strike your ass and you yelp loving the feeling, he gets on to his knees and he licks a strip up your heat through the underwear.

“divine” he almost moans, ripping your bottoms down with haste. he plunges two fingers in to you seeming angry that he isn’t already inside, your quivering, all this attention to you and he just isn’t touching you right. he grips your waist hard and pulls you back in to his jeans, and you feel his whole length over your ass and you feel like you could cry because it’s not in you.

you look back so you could make eye contact with him, eyes welling up you pleaded out to him “please, please i need it so bad”. that seems to have really done something for him as he is already half way to taking his pants before you even finished, he pushes your head in to the table with force and he slides inside you.

you grip the table as he is finally doing what you’ve been wanting, and he move in you at a rough pace not giving you time to adjust to his size. you can hear the table keep slamming in to the wall as wil is fucking you nice and rough, wilburs strokes start to stutter so you know he’s getting close, you start to clench around him showing wil your close too.

wil starts moving with a pace and a force that you didn’t even know was human. the table banging on the wall gotten so much louder probably going through the sound proofing, he grabs your hair and pulls your head up slightly, as his last thrust comes and he buries his cock deep inside you. you can feel his dick pulsate as he spurts cum, he lets go of your hair and your knees go weak as the table catches you.

wilbur gets you both dress and sits you in his lap as you are all tired out after, “you did so well my love” his says with a kiss on the forehead.

wils head shoots up “this gave me the best idea for a song” he scoots the chair over tho the table, you hear him speak up again “i’m not sure it fits the vibe of the album though” he giggles. all you can assume it’s got something to do with the previous activities yous participated in.

#kinktober #wilbur smut #wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur fanfiction #wilbur x you #wilbur x reader #wilbur x y/n #wilbur soot imagine

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hiddenwritingsintheworld · 9 months

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Cruel Summer Chapter 1 (Chris Evans x Actress/Singer!Reader)

(Okay, So Ive been away for a hot minute. And I've been through quite a bit. But I got inspired to write this and I hope yall love it!! Couple of things. 1.) Taylor Swift doesnt exist in this series, the reader is like taylor swift! 2) dont come for me, I've been chewing on this idea for a few months now lol. 3.) Im almost done with chapter 1 of My Alpha, I know I've gotten some messages about that!! Also, half way through chapter 2 of Midnight rain ;) Enjoy! Let me know your thoughts on this!! love you guys!!!)

Thoughts? Suggestions? General opinion wanted here!!!!!

You’d be delusional to think that he wanted anything more than hookups with you. Being a movie star was hard enough to make a “normal” life ...falling in love with your co-star though...that made everything even worse. That’s what led you to becoming a world famous pop star, releasing smash hit after smash hit. Your smile; when up on that stage, tens of thousands of fans screaming your songs as you sang them, standing ovations, tears of happiness, excitement, thrill, it all made that heartache ease just a little bit. But not all the way.

“Tonight is a HUGE night, I can’t believe you’re going to announce another album. I’m in awe, really I am.” Your mom said, grabbing your shoulders and looking at you in the mirror of the room you were currently using backstage. “Mom, thanks so much for traveling with me during this tour. It means so much to me.” you smiled softly at her, “especially after everything I’ve been through recently. Wanna know the surprise songs tonight? Or just be surprised like everyone else?” you asked with a soft laugh.

Your mom and dad were your biggest and best fans you could have ever asked for. Even during the worst time of your life, you’d had your parents support when changing careers. “Awe, let me be surprised like everyone else dear. Your cue is up….come on,” she gave you a big hug and kissed your cheek. “You’re going to be amazing, just like every other night” she beamed before walking out of your dressing room.

You stared in the mirror, touching up your red lipstick before turning around and walking out. Your bejeweled bodysuit in the colors of your most favorite album you’d put out, pinks and blues. You smiled at the stage crew and everyone working behind the scenes as you walked with your assistant. “Another great sold out crowd out there, the VIP tent is dead center, lots of celebrities are here tonight too.” She smiled before you walked away standing on your mark.

Listening to the entrance music you’d had custom made, caused the memories to flood your mind.

You looked over at him grinning as you both reached for a piece of popcorn. “Soooo I thought you wanted to do something else when you asked me to come to your hotel room 10:30 at night.” you smirked as he laughed, throwing his head back. “While yes, I’d love to do that too….I figured it would be nice to watch a movie or two, enjoy a snack and relax together too. I ordered some wine and chocolate covered strawberries too.” he said leaning closer to you, as you bit your lip leaning into him, letting his lips brush yours. The next thing you knew, he had you pinned to the bed, popcorn littering the floor as he kissed down your neck, slowly pushing your shirt off and attacking your chest.

“Ready? Have fun!!” Your assistant shouted over the music and screaming fans as the platform started to bring you up from under the stage. You plastered a grin on your lips and got in your stance with your mic.

The moment your back up dancers pulled back the large fabric fans to reveal you, you began to sing one of your songs. The roar of screams, cheers and cries erupted throughout the entire stadium as you came into sight for everyone. The platform continued to rise as you sang, smiling at everyone.

“It's you and me, that's my whole world

They whisper in the hallway, "She's a bad, bad girl"

Oh, I just thought you should know (you should know)

It's you and me, there's nothing like this (like this)

Miss Americana and The Heartbreak Prince (okay)

We're so sad, we paint the town blue (paint it blue)

Voted most likely to run away with you.”

The music ended as everyone cheered even louder and you laughed softly, the platform lowering back to the mainstage level; you grinned as the next song began instantly. You loved performing for a crowd, they never made you feel like you weren’t worth the love and attention. You strut toward the front of the stage, beginning to sing the bridge, along with the crowd, when a sight almost threw you off your performance. He stood there in the VIP tent with a cold beer in one hand, his other arm around the shoulders of a petite brunette.

“I'm drunk in the back of the car

And I cried like a baby coming home from the bar (oh)

Said, "I'm fine, " but it wasn't true

I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you

And I snuck in through the garden gate

Every night that summer just to seal my fate (oh)

And I screamed for whatever it's worth

"I love you, " ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?

He looks up grinning like a devil”

You belt out the bridge, the crowd screaming louder toward the end. You tried to not to look at the VIP tent, the urge to see him again, standing there happy with some other girl, you danced around, happily grinning at the crowd, encouraging them to sing along. You finally took a break, smiling wide as everyone clapped and cheered. “Hi!” you said cheerfully. “My name is Y/N and welcome to The Eras Tour,” you grinned as the stadium erupted again.

“I just want to say thank you to everyone who is here tonight and I hope that I don’t disappoint. I usually perform only two surprise songs a night, however, I’m feeling…fun tonight, so I want to add another song to the list for you all. It’s one that I don't usually perform live. But, I hope you enjoy it.” you smiled as the platform rose and you looked around, the soft jazz music starting as loud cheers erupted. You couldn't stop the smile that landed on your face as you began to sing.

“We were crazy to think

Crazy to think that this could work

Remember how I said I'd die for you?

We were stupid to jump

In the ocean separating us

Remember how I'd fly to you?

And I can't talk to you when you're like this

Staring out the window like I'm not your favorite town

I'm New York City

I still do it for you, babe

They all warned us about times like this

They say the road gets hard and you get lost when you're led by blind faith

Blind faith”

You smiled looking around, your eyes landed on him again, he had a look in his eyes, just like how he used to look at you, hunger and desperation for your touch. You put your lips back up to the microphone and made eye contact with him again.

“But we might just get away with it

Religion's in your lips

Even if it's a false god

We'd still worship

We might just get away with it

The altar is my hips

Even if it's a false god

We'd still worship this love

I know heaven's a thing

I go there when you touch me

Honey hell is when I fight with you”

You didn’t mean to stare for so long, but the way he looked at you, watching your body move. You wanted to jump off stage and run into his arms again, kissing him, telling him how in love with him you still were, even after the three years that had passed. You felt a tightness in your chest when the girl turned and kissed his neck, and began to dance with him.

You finished the song not soon after and took a small bow as everyone screamed out. You stood still smiling as the platform began to lower, before diving off to get changed. “I need a minute,” you said as your assistant came up to you. She looked slightly confused as they began to help you into your next outfit. How were you going to continue this concert with him staring at you? You didn’t think you could do it honestly.

“I can’t believe you changed the set list, We’re going to have to cut one of the surprise songs.” You looked at her. “No we can’t but we are changing them tonight.” you said as they did up the back of your dress. “What?! Why!” she gasped. “Chris is here,” you said looking at her as her face fell. “With some girl.” she sighed putting a hand on her head “Jesus fucking Christ……okay. Tell me what you need.” you looked at her again as tears filled your eyes. “I need a fucking minute.” you grabbed the new mic rushing off.

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ditzydoodiary · 5 months

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autistic ramble about twilight sparkle because i love her sm and shes my fave autistic comfort character !!!

this took a really long time to make, and im really proud of it, so any reblogs/reshares would be appreciated ! especially if you like mlp !!

when people say she isnt autistic, i always find myself very surprised. i think to myself, have these people even watched the show??because yes, while the writers and lauren faust may not have intended for her to be explicitly autistic, she is very clearly portrayed that way, intentional or not. not to mention that lauren faust (creator of friendship is magic) has recently responded to a tweet saying that she thought pinkie pie being adhd was obvious; lauren faust has adhd herself, so its not surprising that so many of the mlp fim characters also posess many of the same traits as her. and i also raise the question; if she thought pinkie pie was obvious as having adhd, then why would twilight be any different?? she is very clearly autistic, but i dont think twilight's obvious neurodivergence has been addressed by lauren yet (unless im wrong of course, but i just haven't found anything about it when ive searched for it).

anywho, to list just a few of twilight's autistic traits:

- trouble socialising and making friends (this is literally the main plot point of the first few seasons and is even still present in the later seasons, so its not like this was just a one time thing). an example of this would be in the very first episode when twinkleshine, lemon hearts, and minuette invite her to moondancer's party; she awkwardly declines, saying that she needs to catch up on her studying instead. to this the other ponies say, "ugh, does that pony do anything except study? i think shes more interested in books than friends"

- she has a very obvious special interest in reading, books, research, and the study of pony magic. she indulges in these interests to such a level where she often loses track of time and stays awake all night, and often misses out on opportunities to socialise with her friends. when she cant indulge in them, she gets upset. this ties into finding comfort in routines, too.

- taking things literally (e.g: that part in "look before you sleep" where she takes rarity's statement about them getting warmer in regards to playing a game literally). look before you sleep is also a great episode showing her need to have everything planned out; in this episode, twilight has her first slumber party, and uses a slumber party planning book as a guide. she thinks has to follow every single instruction in the exact same order, and when rarity and applejack dont oblige, she gets upset.

- HEAVILY relies on schedules and planning. she utilises all kinds of lists; visual lists, written lists, checklists, etc. when she's unable to stick to her routines/plans, she becomes irrationally upset and/or angry, lashes out at other people and can have meltdowns. this is again shown all throughout the show, but is more prominent in the episode "lesson zero".

- LOVES organising, lining things up, and finding visual patterns in all sorts of things. she'll often just do this for fun and as a way to calm down, while others might find this more of a chore. i suppose this can be done as a form of visual stimming? I don't really know what this is called; but i know a lot of autistic people do it. i suppose this could also tie into needing routines and structure, as organising things can help autistic people feel more in control and can provide a sense of stability.

- she can often come off as insensitive or rude without meaning to, and sometimes she struggles with tone as well as being quite blunt. this is most likely due to her misunderstanding or being unable to read typical social cues. this could also perhaps be linked to low empathy, which is something a fair few individuals on the spectrum experience. this is especially true in the earlier seasons, but still shown in the later seasons as well.

- twilight also struggles with regulating her emotions and having meltdowns; this is typically the result of her needs not being properly met and her routines being changed. and when she's not having full blown meltdowns, she can at least be seen being snappy towards her friends when overwhelmed.

- stimming !!! oh boy does she stim a lot. stomping her hooves, jumping up and down, PACING (this is a big one), teleporting spontaneously when overwhelmed, flapping her wings, etc. in fact, twilight once paced so hard for so long that she made a groove in the floor without even realising !! (this was seen in the episode "its about time" - which is also a good episode that showcases her autistic traits)

- shes also sometimes shown struggling with overstimulation; in the third episode of the series, "the ticket master", twilight gets overwhelmed by her friends crowding around her and loudly shouting, resulting in her running off and snapping at them.

- shes often shown struggling with generalised anxiety, which is another common trait of autism.

and the best part is, this is obviously a common occurrence, and her friends fully support her through her struggles !!! her meltdowns, overthinking and anxiety are so frequent, that her friends know exactly what to do and how to help her.

obviously, this isn't every trait, this is just all the surface level stuff !!

i would have included more video and photo examples, but tumblr has a limit on how many you can add to a post :( i hope i still got my point across despite that !!

all in all, i think she's wonderful autistic representation !! even if this wasn't intentional, i still think it's great and love the way her personality and traits were portrayed. the main character of a children's show possessing these traits is awesome and something you don't see too often !! i hope lauren or at least someone on the production team talks about this, because it means a lot to myself and many other autistic people who love mlp <3

#autism #actually autistic #my little pony #mlp #twilight sparkle #twilight mlp #twilight my little pony #autistic headcanon #this is basically canon at this point so is it really even a headcanon #lauren faust pls confirm this im going ballistic #autistic #disabled #disability #shes just like me fr

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weixuldo · 9 months

Text

Allow me// ch 8

Vader x Reader

a/n: so sorry for the wait on this chapter- ive been on vacation this past week oops! But never the less, HERE IT IS!! hehe just a reminder, Vader has become more vulnerable with his emotions in his older age (just as he began to open up to luke in rotj) so if he seems too “kind” or “emotional”, that’s why. I hope that doesn’t ruin him for u :( but trust- he will have some iconic Vader moments later on in the series....

You get a strange visitor looking for some comfort.

warnings: cursing, anxiety, self hatred/loathing, cannon disabled character, emotional vulnerability

_____________________

Your admission to Lord Vader came as a relief; he held out a small shred of hope that you would accept his offer, but he wasn't too sold on the fact that you would actually agree. So when you did, his heart fluttered.

In the weeks following the encounter, he became much more present in your daily life.

Before the standard day started you would often wander into his quarters and feel out his location throughout the force (though you knew he was intentionally putting out a special signal just for you).

After shifts were done you would have debriefing chats with him, which mainly consisted of random conversations and his adorably flustered comments about or to you.

In your earlier days of working for the sith, you always assumed he was busy every minute of the day; he always seemed in a hurry when he strutted down the cold halls.

But as he dedicated more and more time to you, you found that it wasn’t the case.

Yes, he did have a great many things to do, but he was quite proficient at his job; after all, he had been doing it for over a decade.

Anyways, who would dare attempt to question him about his whereabouts other than the emperor?

No one.

He was one of the two most feared men in the galaxy- he would be just fine if someone noticed him spending more time with the mechanic than usual.

In the more recent days he had been inviting you to join him in his meditation chamber for some peaceful time away from curious workers.

You would enter the chamber as if you were going to work on his pod but you would actually just wait until he came in a while later.

The pod was small and truly only built to accommodate his large frame, so when you were there he would take a seat then call for you to climb onto his lap.

Once you were settled he motioned for the chamber to close so the only thing to focus on were the two of you in the small capsule.

Once you were in there it seemed much more spacious than the outside portrayed, his seat was soft and so were his thighs (apparently, they were one of the only parts of him that was left human).

You would sit in his lap and rest your head on his chest or straddle his lap to speak with him face to face (or…rather face to helmet).

Though you had basically proclaimed yourself to the Sith and spent a multitude of time with the man, you never were awarded the gift of seeing his uncovered face.

It wasn’t for your lack of trying, but most times he would respectfully decline or attempt to divert your attention.

__________________

Today Vader had been pretty busy, so after your shift you just went back to your chambers and got ready for bed.

You drifted in and out of sleep for a few hours until you heard a knock at your door.

Who could that be? It was the middle of the night.

The tile was cool beneath your feet as you gathered a blanket around your shoulders and headed for the door. You clicked on a lamp that lit the room with a warm glow.

You were barely to the door when it swooshed open to reveal a familiar figure; you tilted your head to the side with a confused look.

“Vader?”

He looked down and asked “may I come in?”.

You nodded, allowing him to enter and closing your door, “Is something wrong?” you asked, thinking something needed fixing.

“No, no. Everything is alright. I just wanted to see you” he admitted, standing awkwardly in the middle of your room.

Your shoulders relaxed when you realized it wasn’t an emergency and you smiled, “well here I am! it’s nice to see you, i missed you today ”.

You walked to your bed and patted the space beside you; he sat next to you but continued to look forward.

“Are you sure everything is alright?”.

He sighed, “It’s my master. He is asking me to have an audience with him tomorrow”.

Your brows furrowed, didn’t they meet often? Why was this perplexing him so much?

“What's so bad about that?” you asked innocently.

“He thinks I have made a mistake. I worked with an enemy- well, not really an enemy, just someone who isn’t on the empire’s side” he explained, resting his head in his hands.

You rubbed his back and decided it best not to pry, “I’m sorry Vader, Is there anything I can do?”.

He was thankful you didn’t ask details- you comforted him so well.

If he were to explain why teaming up with Sabe was so problematic he would have to explain who Sabe was to Padme and why Padme was important.

The stress of facing his master tomorrow was far too taxing to also reveal his past to you; he couldn’t do that tonight.

“No, but I appreciate the offer,” he said.

Silently, you knelt on your bed and wrapped your arms around him, holding him close in your warm embrace. No words were exchanged, yet you could feel his exhausted relief from your touch.

You opted to rest your head on his shoulder as you rubbed your thumb over his bicep. His heart cried as you held onto him- he hadn’t felt this safe in years; he didn’t want you to let go. He reached for your free hand and held it tight.

“Thank you, y/n” he said as you sat back and he finally faced you.

The blanket had fallen from your shoulders and your sage green nightgown was now visible; it wasn’t scandalous or anything crazy, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Your beauty was eminent and demanded his attention.

“It’s alright, Vader. I just want you to be ok” you spoke.

His heart yearned for you and the love he knew you would give, but how could he have you when being with him would just put you in danger?

“I haven't felt that in so long…” he trailed off.

What hadn’t he felt? You became confused by his words.

He turned to look into your eyes, “I haven’t felt cared for. Truly cared for”.

His voice wavered and you gave him a sad smile before resting a gentle hand on the side of his helmet.

“I do care.. So, so much”

His breathing filled the otherwise silent room as he placed a gloved hand over yours.

“I know you do”

You looked over at your clock and it was in the early hours of the morning now, you were tired and he probably was too.

“It’s late. Why don’t you stay for a while? We can lay down.” you offered, reclining on your bed.

Any other night he would have politely declined, not wanting to get more attached than he already was, but tonight he needed someone.

Without hesitation he agreed and took his place beside you in your large bed (another perk of being Darth Vader’s personal mechanic, you got an upgraded room).

He grunted as he laid down, his armor poking into his body irritably.

You gently tapped his shoulder and offered him a solution to make him more comfortable, “Why don’t we take some of your armor off? Wearing that can’t be pleasant”.

He agreed and allowed you to help him unlatch his stiff guarding. Once it was all off, he laid on his back and you scooted closer to him and laid your head on his chest above his chest box.

“Vader- will I ever see your face?” you asked out of the blue after a few minutes of lying with the Sith.

You felt him shift under you, “Why would you want to see that?” he sounded genuinely confused.

You gazed up at him, “because, I want to appreciate your beauty. ”

“There is nothing beautiful under this mask, I assure you. You are all the beauty we need here” he said, lying his head back down.

“Plus you already see me.”

You frowned, of course you heard the stories of vader being more machine than man, but you didn’t care.

“I see your suit- the same suit everyone else sees. I want to see you, I want to see the man who shares these tender moments with me” you cooed , running your hand along his side.

“I am sure if you see my face, you will no longer wish to… be mine”

A bittersweet feeling washed over you: it was such a rush to hear him refer to you as “his”, but at the same time it pained you that he was so ashamed of his physical appearance that he would shield himself from everyone…including you.

“Alright, I won't keep pressuring you… I just want you to know, I would never leave you”.

At that, you could sense the smile that adorned his covered face.

You and Vader stayed like that for a while, just discussing random things that came to mind until you got on the topic of first impressions.

“As soon as I saw you I was intrigued. I could assess the physical beauty but once I found you in the hallway after your mother passed, I really saw you as another individual- not just another worker.” (Vader went on to apologize for his close minded opinions of average imperial officers).

“Huh? When I first started seeing you around, I thought you were going to kill me” you said to him as you ran your hand along his chest.

“What?” he asked, worriedly.

You sat up and tilted your head.

“Back when I had that spat with the trooper outside of your meditation chamber all that time ago. You killed them later that night- I heard it.”

“I knew I sensed you,” he said to himself.

“Yea, I couldn’t sleep, then I saw that and headed back to my room. I was sure you were going to kill me because the rumors were associating me with you.”

He tilted his head and his tone became more serious.

“I killed those troopers because they were harassing you and spreading false information, they did not deserve to be on my ship.”

“You probably could have just had them transferred. What made you angry enough to kill them though?”

“They disrespected me and they disrespected you. I could not have that. They were not even worthy of speaking your name.” he spoke with such a passion… you hadn’t seen him like this before.

Vader seemed genuinely upset that they had been bothering you for so long.

“It was alright, nothing I haven’t heard before” you offered

He turned his head towards you with an unreadable look, “as long as you are with me, acts such as those will not go unpunished”.

He was serious.

“Vader, it is alright, they’re just scummy people anyway-”

He gently took your hands into his and looked into your eyes, “That is not alright. Allow me to do these things for you. Allow me to protect you”.

Maker, he really did care about you.

You offered a small smile, “I will allow it, only because it was you that asked”.

He seemed to relax at your blessing.

“But I want you to know I don’t need protection, I’m a big girl, I can handle myself” you joked which garnered a smile from the man beside you under his helmet.

“Of course, my dear” he confirmed as he gently brushed his thumb over your cheek.

Never in a million years would Vader have thought that he could be this intimate with someone again; only a few years ago he would have laughed in your face if you told him he would be able to feel this way again.

His past haunted him in his early years of his time as a Sith, which made him cold and ruthless.

But as the years went by and he grew older he became a little less harsh (though he would never admit it).

Maybe he missed feeling wanted or appreciated or maybe it was because he genuinely wanted you- after all, he couldn’t imagine feeling this way for anyone else he had met as Vader.

On the other side of things you never imagined that the feared Sith could be so gentle and kind.

He was still an intimidating figure, but you felt so safe with him- so cared for.

His emotions were so strong that you trusted he would do what he said he would.

You wanted him to know that you were here out of genuine interest, not a scheme to access his power or to use him… you could imagine others in the past had attempted to cultivate meaningless relationships with the agenda of abusing his influence.

“V” you called, shortening his name.

You turned your head to look his way but found him already gazing at your beautiful face.

“V?” he asked.

A blush crept up your cheeks and you shyly smiled, “Yea, it's an endearment, is it alright?”.

“It is quite alright” he confirmed, which brought a smile to your face.

“Alright” you smiled

“I just wanted to let you know…” you trailed off as you traced your fingers down his chest and around his chest box.

“I am here because I care for you deeply- I have no other motives other than the own interests of my heart.”

You paused for a moment and he sat there bewildered at your bluntly honest statement.

“I want to see you, V” you said softly, looking into his lenses.

“I do not want to burden your beautiful eyes with my hideous face”.

Your heart fell, “You are not hideous, there is no possible way…” you said, hoping to reassure the man.

“My dear, you have no idea what you would be seeing,” he said sadly.

“But I do- I would be seeing the face of a man who has shown me nothing but kindness, the man who has looked out for me when no one else would, the man who sees himself in me”.

With a brush of your hand against his chest and your endearing words, something in the Sith caved. How could he keep denying you?

Eventually you would see him, being his personal mechanic and all, so why not just rip the bandaid off now?

He sighed and nodded his head, “Alright, but I cannot be without it for long- my lungs aren’t suited for it” he seemed almost embarrassed.

“I know your meditation chamber is pressurized, would that allow you to keep it off a little longer?” you asked, standing from the bed.

“Yes? But we cannot go there now, not like this” he motioned to your nightgown and his unarmored body.

“I wasn't suggesting that'' you laughed as you dug through your tool bag on the floor.

“What are you up to?” he inquired as you tinkered away at a switch near the door. Soon there was a noise that sounded like a vacuum seal.

A smile dawned your face as you looked up towards the vents and stood; you checked the screen near your bed and pointed towards it, “I was working on that”.

Vader looked at the stat’s screen and saw the air pressure level had increased.

“You did that just now?” he asked, amazed.

“Yes” you smiled, taking your spot back on the bed with him.

“I would go to extreme lengths to be able to bask in your presence” you said as dramatically as you could; a stupid grin plastered on your face as you awaited his response.

His head tilted to the side as he moved his hand to the side of your face, “I do not deserve your kindness, y/n.” he said sadly.

Cool air brushed against your cheek as he began to remove his hand, but before he left entirely, you placed your own hand over his and returned him to your cheek.

“You deserve every ounce,” you responded.

He exhaled and drew your hand to his chest.

“I will ask one final time, do you truly want to see me?” his voice wavered.

“Yes, I do”

“I understand if you wont want to hold this position anymore after this- But I just don’t want you to be afraid of me” he rambled.

“V, I never want to leave your side, you won’t scare me…I promise”

He relaxed at your words and nodded.

“Alright”.

***

a/n: lots of exposition… but he’s abt to take a huge step 😭 he’s whipped frrrr- also the bit abt sabe is a nod to what’s coming up soon (the thing about including the vader and palpating comic- cause the whole reason vader was punished was cause he helped Sabe) I HOPE YOU ENJOY!!!

taglist: @vadersassistant @sxoulohvn @khaleesihavilliard @kashasenpai @darling-murdock @beautifulbearpolice @salvatoresister1 @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @blueninjablade3 @jujuba096 @missmannequin @jellydodger @mirastark @wyvernthekriger @duckyhowls @monada43 @lauriidoesstuff @vienettacream @ray-rook @itswhatever06 @ilovenielperry

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notiddygxthgf · 5 months

Text

PROLOGUE

★ pairings: nanami kento x f! reader

★ synopsis: In the search for solace, Nanami stumbles right into the arms of an exotic dancer. In the search for money, an exotic dancer finds more than she bargained for. In the heat of the moment, a contractual relationship turns into something more. (or; the one where sugar daddy!nanami is sweet on his girl)

★ c.w.: drinking (more content warnings and tags)

★ a/n: OMG! im so excited to finally start publishing this fanfic. ive been sitting on it for a minute. DISCLAIMER LOL I dont condone the behavior observed in this story (even if I myself would have done it in a heartbeat) anything for papa nanami. im so normal about him (I have daddy issues). if ur new around here, say hi! if you've read my other ffs then welcome back teehee. chapter is not beta'd. we die like men. (I would recommend listening to the song while u read)

★ w.c.; 3k

my kinda love; chapter index

THE HORRORS. He dreamt about them often. Most of his dreams were of a similar nature; long, detailed, brutal. Bloody, at times. When he wasn’t kept up by the memories, he was dreaming about them – as if they had followed him into his slumber. When he woke up, his burdens were heavy on his shoulders. He would repeat this cycle every day.

He was compensated rather well for his traumas. Well was an understatement. Maybe it wasn’t… after all, no amount of money could ever possibly make up for the things he had seen.

He repeated the same cycle every single day.

“Nanami?” A soft voice shook him out of his reverie. It was his therapist – a woman of short stature with long, brown hair and a business-casual outfit on.

He raised his brows, doing his best to appear as if he had been listening the entire time. “Yes?”

“I asked you if you’ve had any romantic pursuits recently,” She answered. Her smile was warm, patient, but the clipboard in her lap said otherwise. He was paying for her time. “Any efforts to let new people into your life…?”

Nanami’s face wore a blank expression. He fiddled with the hands folded neatly in his lap. “As in… dating?”

“Dating counts, yeah,” She nodded. She tapped the edge of her purple pen against the page rhythmically while she awaited his reply.

He thought of the innumerable faceless women he had spent the evening with. He thought of warm mouths, soft lips, and supple bodies; Countless beautiful women he had tricked into thinking they had a chance at something more than a one night stand. Every time a potential suitor came along, he found himself being scared away by intimacy.

Not sex. He was no stranger to that, nor to its remarkable ability to take his mind off of the stress. It was what lurked in the shadows that daunted him – the lingering touches, the good morning messages, the heartfelt gestures. He could handle it when he was the one dishing it out, but the moment the energy was returned, every single time, he would find himself running away.

It was a dangerous game. He knew he was an evil, cold-hearted, bad man. A part of him wished he could have done right by those select women he had courted (for rather brief periods of time). The more sensible part of him knew he simply didn’t have the time nor the energy to confront his issues and commit to a single woman.

So he continued to ignore his problems – finding comfort in a warm bed and a warm body whenever he could. Sex made for one hell of an emotional crutch when it was the only thing that seemed to make you feel anything other than indifference.

Indifference. That was the only thing he felt these days. That, and the rush – the pursuit of animalistic passion in favor of neglecting his personal qualms. The temporary escape from his permanent issues.

“I’ve had quite a few,” He answered after a pause that seemed to stretch on for a moment too long. “Commitment is a bit of an issue for me, still, but I’m making an effort to work on it.”

Only partially a lie.

“That’s great, Nanami!” She smiled. She clicked her pen against the page, scribbling something down before she turned her attention back to him. “Tell me more about that effort. Have you been letting those emotional walls down?”

He fought the urge to grit his teeth together at her inquiry. If you can call ghosting three women in the last month and a half letting walls down.

“I’ll be honest,” He sighed. Sitting back in his leather loveseat, he crossed one leg over the other. “I’m starting to believe I’m unable to open up to another person on that level.”

“Don’t say that, Nanami,” She scribbled something down. Her eyes weren’t even on him when she uttered this. “I think you just need to put yourself out there a little more. Ease yourself into that intimacy you typically shy away from.”

Put myself out there.

He thought again of the countless women he had been with.

“Forgive me for being vulgar,” He admitted. “But I think I have enough sex.”

“Not that,” She laughed quietly, shaking her head. “Intimacy and sex are two completely different things, Nanami – though they often intersect. You should try exploring non-sexual intimacy with a partner.”

“Non-sexual intimacy…” He reiterated. The term felt foreign as it rolled off of his tongue. “What do you mean by that?”

Was that what he had been missing? Non-sexual intimacy?

“Letting someone be vulnerable with you – being vulnerable with someone. The softness, that stuff that makes a relationship more than just physical. Other than love, that is,” She answered. Her manicured fingers smoothed over the page before flipping it. She was like clockwork. “There’s something healing about having a soft and, in your case, feminine presence in your life that you can be vulnerable with.”

“I’ve thought about it, but I’ve never acted,” He said. Casting a sideways glance at the analog clock on her desk, he asked, “Does that make me selfish? Shying away from non-sexual intimacy because I don’t understand it – even though I allow myself to indulge in sexual intimacy?”

“It makes you human, I think,” She smiled softly, writing something else down. Her brown eyes flitted up to meet him with unfounded warmth. “You should try letting someone in, Nanami. Might be worth a shot. What do you have to lose?”

Everything, was his first thought.

“I suppose you’re right,” He sighed anyway.

The faint buzz of the neon sign before him grew louder as he approached it. It was hardly audible over the deep buzz of the bass coming from the other side of the door. The words “Cat House” blinked periodically, illuminating his tired face in its glow each time.

“You’re taking him to a strip club?” Nanami grumbled. Still, shutting the door of the sleek black vehicle behind him, he glanced at the glowing pink sign. “The kid is turning 21.”

After his white-haired-blue-eyed long-term-acquaintance stepped out from the other side of the SUV, the driver pulled off. Gojo wiped his hands off on the fabric of his suit. “Not just any strip club! My favorite strip club!”

“You’re a regular,” He sighed, shaking his head. “Of course you are.”

“You, my friend, need to learn how to have some fun,” Gojo hummed. He brushed past Nanami, making his way to the stairway that undoubtedly descended to the entrance. “Yuuji’s gonna love it!”

Nanami followed after Gojo, flicking his cigarette onto the ground below his feet. His footsteps crunched against the gravel pathway. “If this is what your definition of fun is, I don’t think you should have been the one planning out his birthday.”

“What would you have done? Take him to an arcade?” Gojo waved him off. He nodded towards the door the two men now stood in front of. “Kid’s 21, not 12. Let’s go inside.”

"Hard pass," Nanami answered calmly. He straightened his tie out, suddenly feeling rather overdressed for the occasion – especially considering the kind of establishment this was .

"Yes we are."

"I have better things to do."

"Like what? Moping and pouting at home?" Gojo interjected, reaching for his arm – which Nanami quickly pulled out of his grasp. “It’s Yuuji’s birthday. Go celebrate with a lapdance, or something.

Gojo grabbed his arm again. Getting the strong feeling that he would simply try again if he pulled his arm away, Nanami let him.

“I will be doing nothing of the sort,” He grumbled. Still, he allowed Gojo to pull him into the entryway.

A low and seductive saxophone medley poured out from the speakers, and Nanami nearly considered turning back there and then. Gojo – with Nanami in tow – approached a rather scantily clad woman near the door.

“Hi, doll. Party for Itadori?” He asked.

The hostess nodded. Gathering a few menus, she stepped out from behind the counter – wearing nothing more than a micro skirt and a bikini top. “Right this way,” she said.

The two men followed her into the club. Everything – everything – was pink. As pink as Yuuji’s hair, with red chairs and booths scattered throughout. It looked like the place had been designed by fucking Cupid himself. There were dozens of dancers strutting around the place – all of which wore tiny skirts and tight tops.

Nanami didn’t miss the way Gojo’s eye’s trailed over the hostess’s ass while she led them over to their booth.

“The dancers here are phenomenal," Gojo said to him, raising his voice so that he was louder than the music. The stage was surrounded by at least 15 tables, all of which were packed with very excited-looking men. Conveniently enough, their table sat front-and-center to the stage.

"Can I get you started with something to drink?” The woman said, gesturing to the booth. “Or would you like to wait for the rest of your party?”

Gojo sank into one of the cushiony chairs at the table, and Nanami did the same. The cushion was a bright red velour. It was soft – he really didn’t wanna think about what sort of stories the chair could tell.

“A strawberry margarita for me, please– extra dirty,” Gojo answered. He didn’t even have to look at the menu. Fuckin’ party animal.

The lady nodded, then turned her gaze to Nanami.

He had to think for a moment before he asked. “Do you have wine?”

“Yeah,” She hummed. “What kind?”

“Merlot, please,” He answered. “Bring the whole bottle.”

The lady nodded, and again, he caught the way Gojo shamelessly stared at the woman's ass as she walked away. Once he was certain they were alone, he asked his eccentric friend, "The drinks any good here?"

"You ask that after you order a whole bottle of it?" The man chuckled, crossing one leg over the other and rather conspicuously nudging Nanami’s leg with his foot. "They’re alright. The key is to get wasted enough that they taste better.”

That’s terrible advice. Nanami knew better than to try to argue with Gojo. He had long since learned his lesson. Instead, he tried to see the bright side of the whole situation. Perhaps this night out would help him take his mind off of everything

Yuuji and his friends had arrived only thirty minutes earlier, and they were already drunk. They were cackling loudly – so loudly that they were beginning to draw attention. Gojo, wiping away tears from laughing so hard, was clapping his hands together in amusement.

There was a brief moment of silence, during which Gojo went for the tequila bottle and poured everyone another round of shots. The clear liquid seemed to catch the light just slightly, just enough that it glistened as he raised his glass.

“Lovely students, gather ‘round!” He slurred, a drunken sparkle in his eyes. He tapped the side of his glass with a metal fork – the resulting clink cut right through the laughter.

The group hushed as all eyes focused on him. “I want to make a toast!” He announced after a dramatic pause. He glanced at poor Yuuji, with his “birthday girl” sash and matching tiara, and proclaimed, “I wanna thank all of you for gathering here to celebrate our beloved birthday girl’s special night!”

All eyes turned to Yuuji, who wore a dopey, beaming grin.

Gojo stood up from his chair, bringing the glass of tequila with him. Nanami watched with moderate intrigue – only because there was a 50% chance that his alcoholic beverage could wind up all over his shirt.

“To Yuuji!” he declared, raising his glass high.

The group raised their glasses together. For a moment, Nanami felt a warmth in his chest – a rare moment of contentment amidst all of the chaos. Everyone was okay. They were here . Happy.

“To Yuuji!” They echoed.

He raised my own glass a moment too late, then threw it down the hatch. The bitter taste of the liquor as it flowed down Nanami’s throat and warmed his chest was not unwelcome.

Yuuji, however, nearly gagged on his, swallowing slowly before erupting into a fit of coughs.

Laughter erupted once again, and Nobara affectionately patted Yuuji on the back. As the group continued to revel in the celebration, the lights dimmed.

"Oh shit, I think the show is starting," Yuuji exclaimed.

"Quiet down, everyone! Gojo chimed in, his usual exuberance heightened by the alcohol.

As the lights dimmed even more, the atmosphere shifted. The group settled into their seats, anticipation filling the air. Yuuji, still wearing his birthday girl sash, looked around with wide eyes, a goofy grin plastered on his face.

The curtains gracefully rolled open just a moment later, ushering in a pulsating beat as a shadow emerged from the stage's depths. Gojo couldn't help but nearly roll his eyes at the sheer absurdity of it all. Gliding effortlessly to the stage's forefront was the dancer, adorned in a fetching ensemble—a pretty pink G-string paired with a matching corset adorned with little embroidered hearts. Her hair was styled into two low pigtails, and from where Nanami stood, he couldn't deny she was, well, kind of pretty.

The rhythmic beat filled the restaurant as the dancer began to sway her hips, accompanied by the provocative lyrics.

‘Tell nobody I control you

I broke you just to hold you,’

She placed a hand on her shoulder, trailing it around her neck before seductively sliding it down her glimmering, scantily-clad chest. The spotlight painted her feminine silhouette with hues of pink and red, and Nanami couldn't resist letting his gaze drift a little lower.

‘They can’t tell, but I love you,’

Grasping the pole behind her, the dancer executed snakelike hip movements. Her hands remained wrapped around the pole as she pressed her back against it, biting her bottom lip in a tantalizing squat. Legs opened, hips gyrating, she beckoned the audience forward. Nanami's eyes dropped below the belt once more as her body rippled enticingly to the beat.

‘Cause you’re loyal, baby,

I love when you’re submissive,’

She was undeniably gorgeous. Her attire accentuated her curves, and her movements exuded confidence and sensuality.

‘Love it when I break skin,’

Gojo, in his usual flamboyant manner, clapped his hands and whistled at the dancer. Nanami turned to him, eyebrows raised in surprise, as if silently conveying, "She's hot." Gojo simply smiled in return.

‘You feel pain without flinchin’...

So say it…’

She stepped around the pole, so that her long, athletic legs were spread in front of it, her back was straight, and her hands were clasped around the pole above her head. She demanded attention – something reflected by the hoots and whistles resonating throughout the room.

‘Give me tough love,’

Slowly, she slid into a squat.

‘Leave me with nothing when I come down,

My kinda love,’

From there, she crawled onto her hands and knees, arching her back, rolling her hips against the floor in a way that had Nanami’s eyes blinking rapidly. She grinded and crawled, eventually transitioning onto her back, where she backbended and then cartwheeled onto her feet again.

‘Push me and choke me ‘til I pass out.’

His jaw would have been on the floor if he didn’t have an image to uphold.

Returning to her confident strides around the pole, she stopped to roll her body against it, smoothing her hands over her smooth bottom, eyes scanning the audience. Sliding her hands up her inner thighs, she flipped her hair up and then rolled back up slowly. She dropped down into another squat, then – spinning on the balls of her feet – she rolled over the floor, kicking her legs up into a split, hands on the ground, back arched.

‘ We don’t gotta be in love, no,

I don’t gotta be the one, no’

She’s amazing, he found himself thinking.

She rolled onto her stomach, pushed herself back onto her knees, and arched her back – all while running her hands over her torso, her waist. Her hips rolled forward, making a little riding motion that made Nanami reconsider his harsh words towards his comrade earlier in the evening.

‘I just wanna be one of your girls tonight’.

Spinning around to face the crowd on her knees, she crawled onto her hands and knees. She arched her back slowly, sensually – in an almost feline fashion – with her ass and heels pointed up.

She pushed herself onto her feet, hands holding her heels, rolling up slowly again – this time dagging her hand up the length of her smooth, long legs. She reached for the pole, rolling her body against it.

‘Push me down, hold me down,

Spit in my mouth while you turn me out,’

Is she even going to use the pole? Nanami wondered. He wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t. It looked difficult – something he could never imagine himself being able to do. And, shit, for what it was worth, she was putting on one hell of a show without it.

‘I wanna take your light inside,

Dim me down, snuff me out,

Hands on my neck while you push it out,

And I’m screamin’ out’

She hooked her leg around the pole – as if she had heard Nanami’s internal inquiry, and flipped up onto it. In one smooth motion, she seemed to defy gravity. Her legs were pointed up, straight towards the ceiling as the pole rotated slowly. Then, before Nanami could catch his breath, her legs split open.

‘Give me tough love,

Leave me with nothin’ when I come down.’

She looked so fucking… perfect, so remarkable. He found himself entirely hypnotized by her. Her back was arched, pressed up against the pole – hell, her whole body was bent backward. He had never seen someone do an upside down split in mid air with only their hands as support, let alone do it so effortlessly.

‘My kinda love,

Force me and choke me ‘til I pass out.’

Her eyes scanned the shouting crowd with a seductive expression. She wrapped her legs around the back of the pole. Then, still upside down, she relaxed her grip on the base of the pole, sliding down until her hands met the ground.

He was surprised her breasts hadn’t spilled out of their containers by now.

‘We don’t gotta be in love, no

I don’t gotta be the one, no,

I just wanna be one of your girls tonight.’

In one fluid motion, she opened her legs and cartwheeled away from the pole. She sauntered up to the front of the stage again, sliding her hands up her hips, her stomach, her chest, her neck. Nanami’s eyes followed her hands hungrily on their journey up, and then again on their way down, down, down. With her hands on her knees, she sunk into a squatting position.

‘We don’t gotta be in love, no

I don’t gotta be the one, no’

Nanami gaped at the stage. She was absolutely stunning. Her body moved with grace, and her long legs worked those heels in a way that left his head spinning. The way her hands gripped the pole ignited a desire in Nanami's fingers to reach out and touch her.

‘I just wanna be one of your girls tonight, oh.’

Strutting to the stage's front, she sank back down to her knees, this time facing away from the audience. Slowly, she bent over backward, bridging off the stage into the audience. What struck Nanami the hardest wasn't the sparkle of her chest or the way her hair framed her pretty eyes; it was the way she looked right at him.

‘ Lock me up and throw away the key,

He knows how to get the best out of me,

I’m no fool for the world to see,

Trade my whole life just to be.’

And Nanami, normally a man of composure, felt the blood rush to his face. He felt something stir deep within his chest – a sensation he hadn’t felt in years. Her half-lidded, smokey eyes gazed into his with the intensity of a thousand wildfires—unwavering, unrelenting, glimmering. She was fucking beautiful.

Droplets of sweat slid down her chest, and she smirked before extending her arm towards him. An unfamiliar, small hand gently caressed the side of his face. Nanami's heart raced, the scent of sweat and perfume leaving him reeling for more.

Then, as if nothing had transpired, the dancer pulled herself back onto her knees and continued with her routine.

Nanami's head spun, utterly captivated. He felt Gojo tap him on the shoulder.

“She’s good, ain’t she?” He shouted over the sultry beat.

As the bills rained down around the captivating dancer, Nanami found himself unable to tear his gaze away. Gojo's words still echoed in his ears, but a stubborn sense of restraint kept him from joining in the display of buffoonery.

Gojo, undeterred by Nanami's refusal, slid him some bills anyway. "Tip her," Gojo insisted. Before Nanami could protest further, Gojo walked away.

Left alone, Nanami hesitated, his gaze alternating between the bills in his hand and the dancer on stage, who continued her mesmerizing routine, seemingly unaffected by the cascade of money around her.

‘We don’t gotta be in love, no

I don’t gotta be the one, no’

He yearned to be closer to her. It was a strange feeling – one that he hadn’t felt before. He yearned to see her, to hold her, to…

The bills felt weighty in his hand, a tangible representation of the internal struggle Nanami was experiencing. After a moment of contemplation, he made a decision. With a determined look, he rolled his thumb over the bills one last time, then threw them up into the air.

Dollar bills danced around the woman as she moved, and she seemed to lock eyes with Nanami, a subtle smile playing on her lips.

‘I just wanna be one of your girls tonight’.

He wasn’t enamored.

No, he definitely wasn’t enamored with the absurdly pretty exotic dancer on the stage. That’s what he told himself.

And even though he had slandered Gojo for being a frequent patron of the club before that night, he joined the rank of regular himself not very long after.

a/n: hi pookie cookie bookie butts! I didnt like this specific chapter, but I never like my first chaps. thats why I make prologues lol!! the story will get much better I swear. tell me your thoughts, requests, remarks, etc in the comments, as always!! love u all <333 -Leo

comments + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

I obviously do not own jjk or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

taglist: @missphanosaur18 , @bontensbabygirl, @megumissunshine, @chocoyanchan, @littlelovebug98, @lucisimpongod, @xochyw, @jaegerstan222 , @electro-supremacy, @mellytheteddy, @clover0310 , @soraya-daydreams, @priussy, @insanehumantinker, @staygoldsquatchling02, @nonksity, @hinata7346, @chososwhoresblog, @mindurownbussines , @hearts4sid , @simplefools , @ynjimenez

wanna join the taglist? | my kinda love; chapter index

#my kinda love ʕ•㉨•ʔ #notiddygxthgf ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚#nanami x reader #kento x reader #nanami kento x reader #kento nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami smut #nanami fluf #nanami angst #nanami kento #nanami kento x you #kento nanami x you #gojo satoru #gojo #Yuuji itadori

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insufferableprotagonistpoll · 3 months

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Propaganda why Dean Winchester is insufferable:

Really mean to Cas (called him a child, zero respect for him, calls him family and casts him out when the angels are looking for him), and an absolute dick to Jack (threatening to kill him CONSTANTLY)

>Was a misogynist (loved to call women skanks, bitches, hoes)

>Used gay as an insult multiple time during the show's run (idc if he's gay an homophobic, that's still insulting)

>Beat up his brother for being possessed

>Beat up his brother for losing his soul (not his brother's fault)

>Used dubious consent to get his brother possessed in a different unrelated possession incident after possession was being used (badly...this is supernatural after all) as a metaphor for SA

>Threatened to murder his brother when he was hallucinating (yay we aren't ableist)

>Locked a child up in a box

>Threatened to kill the child he locked up in a box

>Made a creepy, sexual comment about a barely-legal high school girl

>Got the woman and kid he was living with memory-wiped

misogynistic scumbag. theres also a few different times that dean finds teenagers sexy with the most recent and prominent example that i can recall being the scooby doo crossover episode in season 13 where hes super into daphne who in the version they chose for the episode is 15-16 and is interacting with her as if shes a real person cause they got magicked into the episode. he treats everyone around him like shit and the only time the narrative agrees that thats a bad thing is when he has the mark of cain put on him and hes acting no differently than he does usually its just now acknowledged that hes treating others like shit. ive been rewatching the show for shits and giggles with a friend and wow he really does not treat anyone well but i wanna focus on how he treats sam for a second cause dude's hobby seems to be ignoring what his brother wants and lying to sam about doing stuff that directly concerns him the demon blood and souless things are reasonable cause those were both Bad for sam but theyre still part of a wider pattern and the most prominent example of this being when dean tricks sam into letting gadreel possess him and actually gaslights sam about it with the whole ordeal ending when its revealed gadreel lied about who he was and while possessing sam murders a friend of theirs. his voice is just also stupid as fuck im sorry this is just petty but he just sounds like hes trying so hard to be gruff n intimidating but he just sounds like a kid pretending to be batman

Dean’s list of sins is crazy long because of how long the show ran, but the key thing for me is that post-locking Sam in the bunker (season 4 I think?), I just can’t enjoy their relationship anymore. I normally love their sibling dynamic, but Dean’s ultimate worst past-the-point-of-no-return moment for me was demonizing (pun intended) his little brother for being “addicted” to demon blood, which only happened because of a series of events that were either Dean’s or someone else’s fault, not Sam’s. I also really dislike how the fandom treats Dean like this angel (pun intended) who has done no wrong and even tries to justify the MULTIPLE times he’s beaten up and otherwise abused his little brother. Canon Dean is like the polar opposite of fanon Dean: he’s homophobic and racist (jokes about a Black man being sexually assaulted in prison), misogynistic (take a shot every time he calls a woman a slur and you’ll die of alcohol poisoning), and abusive.

Propaganda why the Tenth Doctor is insufferable:

They’re so *edgy*

That one time he committed a genocide by drowning the last children of a near-extinct species (Racnoss) because their mother was evil. The closest anyone ever got to calling him out on it was when Donna noted that his take on a *different* set of weird alien babies (the Adipose) was a lot nicer than last time.

A combination of hypocrisy, sanctimony, and an equally insufferable fanbase. And the dissonance between what he actually does and how the narrative presents it.

#dean winchester #supernatural #the tenth doctor #doctor who #insufferable protagonist poll #insufferable protagonist tournament #tournament poll

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egophiliac · 2 years

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hi, just wanted to say I've just started to get into Twisted Wonderland and binge read your comics and content for it, it was really fun to read! i love how you draw the different characters' expressions! im still super new to it (haven't played the game yet but i got kinda hooked on reading the main story after looking it up by chance) but id love to play it eventually! do you have any suggestions on what to look up/read next as far as character backstories/interactions go? ive really enjoyed the parts from the birthday events (? i think?) that you have done comics from, they sound really fun! thanks for your time!

oh boy, GET READY because the personal stories/vignettes are where the real meat lies. like, the main story is the main draw, of course, and for good reason -- I am champing as the start of episode 7 grows nearer -- but Twst's strength is definitely in its enjoyable characters and their slice-of-life interactions in Zany Magic School. and fortunately, there's a lot of them!

(sorry this got so long, I have many feelings about anime characters)

most of the stories and events don't have a specific chronology aside from taking place sometime after episode 2 of the main story, so once you've gotten that far you're good to jump in almost anywhere! (the more recent events, starting with Fairy Gala IF, are explicitly set after episode 6 -- though if you're going off of the English version then I don't think any of them have been released yet.) event cards also assume that you've gone through the event story first and usually have spoilers or references for it. otherwise there's no real order, so you can just pick a character you like or event you think looks interesting and go from there!

one of the things I really like about Twst is that interactions aren't limited to defined groups -- everyone has inter-dorm friendships and clubs and sub-friend groups and opinions on everyone else that range from "well, I don't know if we're exactly friends, but we study together sometimes" to "I would literally die and/or murder for him" (and sometimes "I would literally die and/or murder for him but he won't let me >:("). characters pop up in each other's stories all the time, and pretty much everyone gets some extra depth or development to them that doesn't come out in the main story, so I do think it's worth it to read through at least a few for every character.

like, if you just go through the main story, you only really get to see Nice Mom Friend Trey, and not that he's actually kind of a petty asshole who is weirdly obsessed with dentistry and goes around sticking his hands in people's mouths. everybody has things like that! Jade is super into mushrooms! Leona is a feminist! Malleus has an intense emotional attachment to his tamagotchi! Cater participates in shallow consumerism because nothing in life has any meaning and actually his friends are pretty worried about him!

tl;dr read everything because this game knows what it's about and that's ✨Characters✨

#twisted wonderland #some exec at the mouse house was like 'okay we have a big castle full of sparkly anime boys'#'what more do we need'#and from a shadowed corner comes the voice of a wise sage #'make them all so stupid. just the biggest dumbasses. there should be not a single braincell amongst them.'#'what...like...even the headmaster?'#'oh my god ESPECIALLY the headmaster'

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wellplacedbanana · 6 months

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I’ve seen a few posts recently talking about how important it is for us to share our tips for dealing chronic illness with each other, and I’ve realized that as a freakishly avid community enthusiast, I’ve been falling down on the job. So, I present

Wellplacedbanana’s Ridiculously Long List of Tips for All Things Chronic Illness (Curated Over 8+ Years):

Infusion Centers

Headed to an infusion center to get that sweet sweet (expensive as hell) live-saving medication pumped directly into your veins? Here’s what I do.

Bring headphones or earplugs. Most infusion centers try to maintain a semblance of quiet for the patients, but it can get loud fast—beeping IVs, pulse ox monitors, loud families, codes. Some infusion centers do pods of multiple people and some do individual bays, so this can affect noise levels.

Drink lots of water before if you have to get an IV placed. Don’t worry too much about bringing a water bottle because they’ll give you one when you get there. (Of course, if you have something like POTS and need more intense hydration, bring the damn water bottle.) If you’re not hydrated and they can’t find a vein, they’ll call in the ultrasound tech, and they’ll bring the longest IV needle you’ve ever seen. It hurts. Drink water.

Bring a book or your Switch or something else to entertain you, but don’t expect to actually do it. I tried bringing papers to edit the first time because I was like “Oh it’s an hour and a half of uninterrupted free time. I can get so much done!” I was wrong. The nurses are constantly checking in for vitals, the unit can be loud, and I spent the whole time trying not to vomit everywhere. Different infusions will have different side affects. Knowing what yours might be will help you plan for what you want to bring. Knowing how long your infusion will be can also help. Most infusion centers have to keep you 20-45 minutes after your first dose of a new medication to make sure you don’t have an allergic reaction, so factor that into your time too.

If you’re in a pod with other patients who’re friendly and if you feel up to it, don’t be afraid to talk with them. Lots of them are lonely, bored, interested in other people, etc. I met an elderly Thai lady one time who had been there for three hours and would be there for another four AFTER I left. We talked about her husband and her kids, and she listened to me talk about punctuation as style in prose. It made me feel less alone in the medical system and helped distract me from the nausea.

Conversely, if you don’t want to interact with anyone, snap on those headphones and block everything out. The nurses will get your attention if they need you. Don’t worry about staying lucid. Your job is to get the infusion and do what’s best for you.

You can bring snacks if you want, but most units/centers will have something to munch on or can order you something from the cafeteria if you’re at a hospital. Also the medication and the smells in the unit always make me nauseous, so it’s kind of a waste for me to bother pulling together food before I leave. You can always eat before or plan to get something on the way back. Going through a drive thru to get something with protein is my go to.

If possible, schedule your next appointment while you’re there. I have to go every three months, so I schedule the next one while I’m there, and then I never have to make any fucking phone calls. Phone calls are the worst.

My last and most important tip: ask the nurses when you need something. Blankets, water, snacks, pain meds, the lights turned off. If they can’t do it, they’ll tell you. They’d rather have you ask and have to say no, then you be uncomfortable. Don’t suffer if there might be a solution.

Dealing with Shitty Doctors

There are shitty doctors everywhere, in every specialty and every hospital system. It sucks, and you can do your best to avoid them, but most chronically ill patients will have to put up with one at some point. Here are my suggestions:

If they’re refusing to acknowledge one of your symptoms is a problem (won’t order tests, won’t refer you out, won’t ask any questions), tell them it’s affect your Activities of Daily Living. ADLs are one of the ways doctors measure severity of symptoms and quality of life. ADLs are the absolutely essential things you need to do to be a functioning human: eat, shower, get dressed, brush your teeth. ADLs are a trigger word for most doctors. Physical therapists and occupational therapists were created specifically to help patients achieve their ADLs. If you’re having severe joint paint, say it’s affecting you’re ability to shower and dress in the morning. If you have intense fatigue, say you’re too tired all the time to cook food to eat or even brush your teeth before bed. Tell them your symptoms are affecting your quality of life and your ability to function daily. This won’t always work, but it’s a good starting place. (A side note: if you have have to submit an insurance appeal for something that was denied, citing ADLs as a reason to receive the treatment/medical equipment/doctors visit, will often spur them into action. Sometimes, it’ll just make them ask more questions, but questions are better than flat out denial. This was a very helpful tactic when I was trying to get my manual wheelchair approved. I told them I was unable to complete my ADLs and it was affecting my quality of life, and they eventually came around. It’s also important to remember that ADLs are only the most base tasks that you need to live. Driving, working, socializing—those aren’t included in ADLs, and insurance especially will laugh in your face if you try to say you need medical equipment for something like that.)

Lots of doctors, consciously or unconsciously, will judge how you’re actually feeling by your mood in an appointment. I had a pediatric neurologist who couldn’t be convinced that my pain was at an 8 because I would laugh with my mom in the waiting room. Eight months in, I started getting real quiet, not talking, crying when he talked, all that shit, and he was so fucking flummoxed. He was like “what changed?? Are you depressed??” And I had to remind him that I was thirteen with a severe shoulder inure that hurt every time I breathed. Doctors will judge you based on how you look and how you present. It’s horrible, but it’s true. Present to them in the way that represents what they’d expect to see for your symptoms.

Whatever you do, don’t say anything (or send any snappy messages) that might be considered aggressive until you are absolutely, 100% positive you will never ever have to see them again. I’ve had a few doctors that said ridiculously horrible things to me. It’s tempting to send them a message about how shitty they’ve been or how much they’ve hurt you, but it won’t help. Shitty doctors have fragile egos and they don’t like to be challenged. They won’t take this well, and they’ll mark you as attention seeking, emotional, mentally unstable—you name it. When your other doctors call to ask questions about symptoms, etc, they’ll start talking shit, and everything gets complicated. This might sound dramatic to anyone who hasn’t seen it happen, but honestly, the medical system abuses emotion and mental illness to discard patients that aren’t afraid to advocate for themselves, and this is one of the least immoral ways they do it.

Remember that you don’t owe your doctors anything (except basic human decency). If they ask you to do something and you can’t or don’t want to, don’t. My psychiatrist was really fixated on me getting a light box to cure my depression. I did Not want to do that, so I didn’t. Sometimes, your doctors won’t move on to further treatment or tests until you try it, but most of the time you can say, “that’s not something I’m able to do right now. Let’s explore further options,” and they’ll move on.

Remember that learning to advocate for yourself takes years of practice. Just do your best, and try not to blame yourself for the ways you get mistreated. Therapy is the best investment I’ve ever made for this. It’s helped me learn how to advocate and how to process medical trauma.

Medication

For gods sake, take the as needed medication when you have a migraine or if you’re nauseous. Don’t punish yourself.

This might seem like a no brainer, but if you’re traveling and you’re going to take your medication bottles with you, put them in a ziplock bag. They will definitely open in your suitcase, and you’ll have to pick Levothyroxine out of your socks.

If a medication gives you icky side effects, tell your doctor and ask if there’s something that doesn’t do that. For me personally, it’s hard to find medication that works at all, so I often get stuck with things that make me feel like shit. But it doesn’t hurt to ask. Sometimes new medications come out or they dig up old ones.

Some medications come in dissolvable tablets or suppositories. They’re not fun, but if you have trouble swallowing pills, this is a good way to go. Again, communicate with your doctor about these things. I know that there are Scopolamine patches for nausea too. I’ve never used them before, but it might be worth looking into if need easy nausea relief.

All Things Wheelchair

Man, wheelchairs suck, but they’re also amazing. If you find yourself using one, you’ll encounter a steep learning curve.

If you’re not super buff when you first start, it’ll seem impossible to go up even a slight incline. Your arms will get stronger the more you move around, but it might take time. I eventually bit the bullet and started doing personal training. I’m lucky that I can afford it, and I know it’s not an option for everyone, but if you can, find a trainer who won’t saying anything shitty and who’s willing to accommodate. I worked with a queer-owned gym to find someone I was comfortable with. We do upper body strength training, and it gives me a chance to move my body more often. I still can’t go up big hills, but I feel infinitely more mobile. Give yourself time to adjust to the new strain on your body, even if you don’t do training for it. You’ll be sore in the beginning. Ice and heat will be your friends after long days. If your wrists start hurting a lot, you’re not wheeling correctly, and you should ask your doctor for a referral to PT or OT. Oh and your hands will be fucked for the first few weeks. I bought special wheelchair gloves to try to combat this, but it just made it harder for me to maneuver. Now I only use the gloves if it’s cold, if I’m going down hills, or in the rain/snow. (But seriously, if you’re going down steep hills, use traction gloves.)

Learn to pop a wheelie as soon as possible. It’s such a helpful skill. If you get good enough, you’ll be able to get up over single steps and traverse shitty pavement.

If your wheelchair has a cushion, then it has a cushion cover. Wash it.

Time for the grossest part: cutting hair out of your caster wheels. I hate this. I hate it so much. It’s fucking disgusting, but you have to do it. It’ll fuck up your wheels and make it harder to maneuver. Also it’s just gross to have all that nasty hair hanging out by your feet. Get yourself a long pair of thin scissors and cut all that hair out every week or every two weeks. If you don’t have long hair or live with people who have long hair, then you might be able to wait longer. You should also sanitize your hand rims while you’re at it. Hand sanitizer or Clorox wipes are great for this.

You’ll notice that it’s fucking impossible to carry shopping baskets or suitcases if you use a manual chair. Some people try to balance them on their laps or wedge them onto their footplates, but it’s pretty precarious. I got these weird peg things that attach to the frame. You can place a basket or your bag on it and still keep your hands free. Here’s the link for the ones I got, but it depends on your make and model, so do some research and call some different companies before buying anything. Also, make sure to measure the distance between the two sides of your frame to make sure a basket will be able to balance on the two pegs. Your frame might be too wide for this. Mine is, but I bought a special basket to take to the store that’s wide enough to reach across.

Lots of people will offer to push you. Some won’t even offer; they’ll just grab on and take you in whatever direction. It’s insanely invasive and dehumanizing. Don’t be afraid to put on your breaks if someone does this. I can stand and take small steps, so sometime I just get up and stare at them. You can also buy covers for your handles that have spikes so people can’t grab them. I know some wheelchair users who like it when people offer to push them. That’s good too! Take the help if you want it. Just remember to prioritize your safety and comfort. I had a big debate with another disabled person about whether it was infantilizing for someone to offer to hold open the door for us. I’m firmly on the side that they can offer, and I can say no, and they can listen, and then we can both appreciate the moment of shared humanity between us. They did not agree. Disabled people fight and disagree all the time because we’re not all carbon copies of each other. That’s okay! Just be respectful.

Getting a customized manual wheelchair was one of the single most stressful things I had to deal with. Insurance doesn’t like to pay for them because it’s about 3-12k, depending on the specifications and add-ons. But it’s also been the most liberating thing I’ve done since getting my mobility stripped from me. I’m not sure how it works for everyone, but I got a referral from my doctor to a custom wheelchair company. From there, they took measurements, discussed needs, and showed me different models. It’s going to be really really difficult to know what you want the first time. There’s a lot of different brands and customizations, so do your research and talk in depth with whoever’s making your chair. Ultra lite rigid frames are my favorite because they’re usually only 15-40 pounds, and the wheels can come off to make it even lighter. However, rigid frames don’t fold together in the middle like classic manual wheelchairs that you might find at a hospital or get at a rental company. They can be difficult to fit in the backseat of a car or in some trunks, so make sure to measure any cars you ride in regularly. Some people prefer to have tilted wheels so they can turn easier. Some people don’t want anything to do with that. Depending on your mobility and the people in your life, you might choose not to add push handles to your chair. I added some to mine because I often get dizzy, and it’s helpful to have handles in case I need someone to push me out of the crosswalk or into the shade. People who are highly independent and extremely strong might not want push handles because they won’t need help up steep hills. I like my handles a lot; however, my chair back is shorter than a standard wheelchair because it helps increase range of motion when I’m wheeling, so my push handles are lower than normal, and anyone who wants to push me has to hunch a bit to reach. Again, do your research and talk to your rep before making final decisions. Some companies will let you test out the chairs they have on hand to see what you like. It’s important to work with a wheelchair company you really like because you’re literally putting you life in their hands. I’ve had better luck with smaller, locally-owned companies, but you can’t always get referrals there, and not every town has them. Here’s my tip to you: Numotion sucks ass. Avoid them. My branch of Numotion seems to be an outlier; I’ve had really good experiences with them. But most of the time, its impossible to get ahold of anyone, their hours are few and random, and their customer service reps are rude. But! After you’ve completed your order form—gotten measurements and found customizations—they’ll submit it to insurance. This is the tricky part. I went through four appeals, before I got mine approved. Luckily, I had insurance through my mom’s job, and after the last appeal, her company told the insurance that they had to pay for it. This won’t be the case with everyone. Be diligent with your appeals. Have your doctors write specific, clear letters about why you need it, including information about all the customizations and add-ons. It’s likely that they’ll only pay for the base chair, and you’ll have to pay out of pocket for any extra things. Another note: most insurance companies will only pay for a new chair once every five years (if they approve the first one at all), so be sure that the chair you pick out will work for you for at least the next five and a half years.

I had an advisor in college tell me something devastating once: there is no AAA for wheelchairs. I’d broken a caster wheel and gotten stuck on a university sidewalk in 102 degree heat, and she was telling me about her own experiences getting stranded after one of her tires popped. She’s right; if you’re wheelchair breaks, you’re stuck wherever you are without any backup. Carry your phone with you. Tell your friends or family where you’re going before you leave. Familiarize yourself with the wheelchair repairs shops in your area. Sometimes places like bike shops will be able to help you fix smaller things. I always carry an Allen wrench with me in case I need to take a part off. And don’t worry; you’ll find that if something does go wrong, people are far more willing to help than you’d expect. One of the sculpture professors in the art department found me that day and went back to his workshop to get all his tools. He brought me water and sat in the sun while he tried to fix my wheel, and when he couldn’t, he offered to drive me wherever I needed to go. This man was a tenured professor with a prestigious MFA, and he was running late for a party where he was supposed to be handing out awards. You’ll find lots of good people when things inevitably go to shit.

Going along with the last point, your wheelchair will break, and you will have to send it into the shop to get repairs. If you can, invest in a cheap manual chair that you can use in emergencies. If you live with other people, you can buy a transport chair for cheaper, but you’ll need someone around to push you because it won’t have hand rims.

If you’re new to wheelchair use, give yourself space to feel all the emotions. When I first started, I had been using an office chair(!) to get around. My mom would push me from my bed to the bathroom and then back to bed while we waited to get a rental. I was so relieved when I got my own chair that I pushed everything else down. It took months to allow myself to be sad about all the things I couldn’t do anymore and be angry about all the inaccessible infrastructure that America has. Don’t push it down. Talk to a therapist or find people in the community to discuss it with. (If I choose to talk about my frustrations with friends, I always start with “I need to vent right now, and I’m grateful you’re willing to listen to me, but I’m not looking for any solutions to this at the moment,” or “can you give me some suggestions to work around these things that are frustrating me?” This gives my friends insight into what I need, instead of making them guess. It keeps us both from getting frustrated, and I highly suggest it, especially if you or your friends have trouble navigating social situations/expectations.)

Hand Controls

Hand controls are great option for your car if you’re unable to use your feet to drive. I got mine about a year back, but it was tricky and really confusing at first.

First thing you need to know: you can’t get hand controls without a prescription from a specialist. Usually a certain type of occupational therapist. You can look up driving rehab OTs in your area, but there aren’t many of them, and lots of the time you’ll have to drive several hours to see one. There’s usually a long wait list as well. (And of course, a lot of them don’t take insurance.)

If you’re able to find someone who’s certified, they’ll do an intake appointment and assess your physical abilities and needs. Sometimes, they’ll do the assessment and decide you aren’t fit to use hand controls. This can be for a multitude of reasons, including impaired mental cognition and slow reaction time, issues with hand or arm mobility, or there might be a better way to adapt a car for you. Again, it varies greatly on the person, and I’m not an OT, so I don’t know all the ins and outs. If you pass the assessment, and they view you got to drive with hand controls, you’ll be required to do a certain amount of training where you practice using different equipment. Some OTs will know what you need to use right away, and others will have you try different things out to see what fits best. There’s a lot of types of hand controls and a lot of adaptations that can be done to a car, so it really depends on the person. My training was only about 15 hours (plus independent driving practice), but it’ll depend on whether this is your first time ever driving, if you’ve driven without hand controls before, and if you have any other medical issues that might make it hard for you to adapt. Once you’ve completed the training and received your certificate from the OT, they’ll write a prescription to send to a shop that does specialty car adaptation. Kind of like wheelchairs, the shop you go to is very important. Ask your OT if they have any favorites in the area. Insurance never covers this, and some shops will way overcharge you if you’re not careful. My hand controls were about 3k out of pocket, but it was definitely worth it. It would’ve been a lot more to add other adaptations like a lift or a ramp, but sometimes you can buy used accessible vans for cheaper than adding it to your own car. Something to know: you’re usually able to turn your hand controls on and off. So if your friend needs to borrow your car, or you need to let a mechanic test drive it, you can disable to hand controls and allow someone else to use the foot pedals as normal.

Overall, it’s a very long, very expensive process, so plan ahead and be prepared to wait and pay.

Navigating Raising a Kid with Chronic Illnesses

I don’t have any kids, but my mom was my sole caretaker growing up, and I can offer you some of her thoughts. You have to remember that no matter what age your kid is, chronic illness is an impossible thing for them to deal with, and yet they have to deal with it anyways. Sometimes, there’s no good way to comfort a child who’s in 10/10 pain, or who’s about to undergo a life-altering procedure. All you can do is your best. Communicate. Offer support. Give affection. Make your love unconditional. I was a very angry teenager. I was angry with my mom that she couldn’t fix it, and I was angry with my doctors for the way they treated me. There were days where I would yell and sob and refuse to take my meds, and there where days where I would stare at the wall and not respond to anything. It drove my mom up the wall. She’s used to fixing things, and this was one of those things she couldn’t even help. I know she stills holds a lot of guilt for this, but she shouldn’t. She did her best. You’re doing your best too. You can’t fix everything. That being said, here are her suggestions:

Therapy, therapy, therapy. They might hate it, but some day, they’ll thank you. Remember that not every therapist is right for every patient. If your kid wants to switch to a different therapist, let them. It’s better than them sitting and not speaking the whole session.

Lots of kids with developing rare undiagnosed diseases will go through this vicious cycle where they get a new symptom, get sent to a specialist, get dismissed, and then develop a new symptom and start the process all over again. It’s not easy. My mom was a fan of throwing Pity Parties. Every once in a while, when the grind of it all started making us feel hopeless, she’d take me to the store and say, “pick out snacks and drinks. We’re going to throw a pity party, gorge on sugar, watch Lord of the Rings, feel bad for ourselves, and tomorrow, we’ll dust ourselves off and try again.” It helped. It was good to know that sometimes you can let life feel unfair, and it was even better to know that the next day it would be easier to try again.

A lot of being chronically ill as a kid is getting decisions stripped from you and having unexpected negative experiences. My mom would try to do spontaneous things every once in a while to remind me that not all surprises are bad. Instead of driving straight home after school one Friday, she took me to Starbucks without saying anything. After an MRI, she stopped at an art fair and let me pick out a necklace. We would go to the library after I spent the day in the hospital. Sometimes, she’d call my aunts while I was at school to come over and play card games on the weekends. And she was really big on giving me choices in everything. She never made me agree to new (non-lifesaving) treatment. Ever. If she really wanted me to do it, we’d talk it over and come to an agreement that made us both happy. Sick kids are forced into adulthood early; they know how to make calculated, logical decisions when needed. Let them be a part of their own healthcare. (They should also be given the chance to make rash, stupid decisions that have no bearing on their health.)

Keep track of everything. Doctors, meds, ER visits, PT exercises, diets they’ve tried for GI issues, everything about the surgeries they’ve undergone. Some day, you’ll need it. Or your kid will grow up into a chronically ill adult, and they’ll need it.

Talk to their school counselor about getting a 504 or IEP. Even if they’re not struggling. I was a super academically minded kid; I didn’t struggle to understand new concepts or complete homework correctly. But eventually it became hard for me to attend class and finish assignments. Having an IEP saved me. 504s are a lot easier to get (a lot less paperwork, less testing, less pushback from admin), but they’re not legally binding. If you want something concrete and all-encompassing, go for the IEP. IEPs are also really helpful when trying to get accommodations in college. You can also start with a 504 and switch to an IEP later. While we’re on the subject of school: remember that education is important, but school is not the end all be all of your child’s life. What should matter the most to you is that they end up safe and happy. I didn’t graduate high school; I took a proficiency test my junior year and dropped out. It was the best choice I could’ve made at the time, but it was still tough for my mom. I ended up going to college, and now I have a pretty solid job, but every kid will be different. Their mental and physical health is the most important. School is a huge huge huge stressor. Don’t make it harder for them than it already is.

Dating

God dating sucks enough on its own, but adding in chronic illness and disability just makes it a shit show. I don’t have a lot to offer on this other than you shouldn’t settle for anyone who doesn’t respect you, treat you with love and compassion, and accept every part of you for what it is. People will say rude shit. They’ll be nasty, fetishizing, infantilizing, dismissive. Some won’t be able to put up with all the things that come along with being ill. I sound like a broken record, but find a good therapist who can help you voice your needs and expectations clearly. Remember that you never have to go on a date if you don’t want to. Participate as you see fit. Throw it all out if you want.

I don’t have enough time to go into my tips for intimacy/sex and disability, but I’ll give you the highlights.

Communicate. Make it very clear what you’re able to do, what you’re interested in doing, and what you don’t want.

There are lots of ways to have sex. If you’re both having fun, being safe, and engaging consensually, then you’re doing it right. Don’t let abled bodied people tell you the way it should be done. There are lots of accessibility friendly toys to invest in, too.

As weird as it might sound, don’t be afraid to take breaks. Keep water near by. If you have POTS, keep salt or electrolyte tablets on hand. If you have to stop to vomit or go to the bathroom, don’t let it shame you. Go at your own pace and take care of your body.

Misc

Having seizures on a college campus: Most universities have a policy that if you lose consciousness while on campus, they have to call an ambulance. You are not required to ride in the ambulance. You can decline, and the paramedics will make you sign a form before leaving. If you’re still actively having seizures, then they’ll take you anyways, but you probably won’t be in any shape to try to decline. If you’re having seizures regularly, tell your professors. It’ll freak them the fuck out, so warn them ahead of time. It makes the whole thing a lot less awkward when you collapse in the aisle during a lecture. Related to that: communicate with your professors about all your accommodations and emergency health needs. They really honestly appreciate it when you talk to them about this stuff. Even if they have a big class and don’t remember you, it’s good to send them an email and introduce yourself. Hopefully, you’ve also talked to your college’s Disability Resource Center. If not, go do that. Now. (There’s a whole lot of shit that I have to say about campus accessibility and disability resource centers, but I’m not gonna go into it right now.) Also, wear your medical alert bracelet. I know they suck, but it sucks more for someone to be digging through your pants pocket while you’re seizing to try to find your wallet. And keep your emergency contact info pinned up somewhere in your dorm. I used to put mine on the fridge and point it out to my roommates at the beginning of term. It can take a while for RAs to pull yours up, so it’s best to make sure it’s easily accessible.

Remember that you do not function like a normal person. There is no wrong way to solve one of your problems. If you need to put a stool in your bathroom to sit at while you brush your teeth, do it. I got an extra tall stool to sit at while I cook at the stove because my wheelchair is too short. (Cooking in a wheelchair is another thing I could talk about forever.) If you need to wear a sleep mask on the bus because the light makes your migraine worse, do it. People can look at you funny all they want. Like I said, I rolled around my house in an office chair while I waited for a rental wheelchair. What I’m trying to say is find things that work and implement them, even if they’re non traditional.

Here’s what I pack in my bag for an ER visit: headphones, phone charger, book, zofran, Naproxen, water bottle, wallet with cash, socks, and sleep mask to block out the waiting room lights. If I’m expecting to be admitted, then I’ll pack more, but I try to keep it light if it’s just triage and a visit with the ER doctor. Sometimes I’ll stuff a granola bar or some almonds in there too.

My biggest tip for surviving hospital stays is to get out of your room (if possible). Go on walks around the unit. Some hospitals have little courtyards patients can sit in. If you’re in peds, go visit the rec room, even if it’s awkward. Their activities are usually meant for the younger kids, but it can be fun to connect with other people your age, and you’ll thank yourself later when you’re stuck in bed at 3am. Also, tell your friends to come visit you. Not everyone will be able to, but most people are happy to come hang out for an hour or two. It’ll help; I promise.

Clean your room every few weeks. Dear god, clean your room. I have trouble with executive functioning and finding energy to do housekeeping type stuff, but I get more depressed when my room is gross. So clean your room. Especially if you have hypersomnia/sleep excessively.

Don’t force yourself to use a pill organizer. I know everyone says it makes it easier, but I get overwhelmed when I have to refill it, and then I just don’t end up taking my meds. If it doesn’t work for you, don’t do it. If it does, then do it!

Don’t buy the self help books your therapist recommends unless you’re actually interested in reading them. It’ll just sit on your shelf and make you feel guilty for not being good enough.

Mental illness is tightly bound to physical illness. Try to be an active listener in your body. Sometimes, when I’ve been feeling really nauseous, my PSTD symptoms will get triggered over nothing, and it’ll frustrate the fuck out of me because it seems like it’s happening over nothing. I try to track when my emotional state is worse to see if it’s correlated to my physical symptoms. This helps curb the frustration and guilt. Sometimes it makes me dissociate more. It’s a balancing act. Just do your best.

Hobbies are so so so important. Make sure to give yourself time to work on them! And there are a million ways to adapt the activities you love if you’re having trouble, so don’t afraid to do some research. I know they have crochet hook grips for people with arthritis or loose grips, and there are super intense magnifying glasses for people who like to cross stitch and are having trouble seeing the tiny ass holes. I have a color blind friend who sends us pictures of paint to see if it’s the shade he wants. Very occasionally, you’ll come to the conclusion that there’s a hobby you can’t adapt. Let yourself be sad. I can’t hike anymore and it sucks. I can’t go tide-pooling either, and its not like if I just work really hard I’ll be able to do it some day. Life is shit, and sometimes you have to let things go. Be angry, be sad, tell people to fuck off if they try to turn you into inspiration porn, but also remember that there are lots of other cool things out there to try.

Going along with the hobby thing: take the time to learn ASL if you’re having trouble with your hearing or if you often go nonverbal. One of my friends had to get hearing aids last year, and we offered to learn with them, but they were hesitant because it feels like a non necessity to them. Something selfish that would take up all our time. If you think it’ll help, you should grant yourself the time to learn. Capitalism makes us think that we shouldn’t engage in activities unless we gain money or power from them, but that mindset will kill you. Your life will be infinitely easier if you learn ASL online with your partner or friends or siblings.

Look up Spoon Theory. It’s not a helpful metaphor for everyone, but most people in the community talk about it, so it’s good to be familiar with it.

Don’t be afraid to go out and find community! Find support groups, look up wheelchair sports if you’re into getting sweaty, brave the awkwardness of starting conversations with other patients in the clinic. I’m wholly and completely of the idea that humans are innately good. There are lots of interesting chronically ill/disabled people who’re looking for connection. Insurance companies and other medical entities rely on us feeling isolated, alone, and uniformed to continue making money and hold power. It’s important that we share with and support each other.

I know a lot of this is basic stuff, but it’s helpful to have reminders, and if you’re new to the whole song and dance, then it’s nice to get a sneak peak. There are a million things I didn’t get to, but this was what was on the top of my brain.

Also, I’m not the collective voice of every chronically ill person in the world. My experiences are not yours and they’re not everyone else’s. What works for me, might not work for you. Be kind.

#thanks to @thenarrativefoil for reminding me that we need to share with each other!!#if you have any suggestions for dealing with gastroparesis please hmu #I’m still waiting for my gastric emptying scan but I’d like to try out some of y’all’s tips #hopefully some of this is helpful to someone #chronic illness #chronic pain #disability #seizures #nausea #wheelchair user #ptsd #mental health #hand controls #medical insurance companies suck #therapy #so much talk of therapy #spoonie #if this is helpful to anyone I’ll make another

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bengiyo · 4 months

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15 people, 15 questions

I got tagged by quite a few of o you over the last few weeks, including at least @telomeke. Sorry this took a while, but I've been distracted.

1. Are you named after anyone?

Technically yes. I have my father's name as one of my middle names because my mom said we didn't make enough money for me to be a IV.

2. When was the last time you cried?

WATCHING GOBLIN TWO DAYS AGO OVER THAT DOG.

3. Do you have kids?

No, but I'm not opposed. It's just something I view as part of a partnership and I don't have one yet.

4. What sports do you play/have you played?

I played baseball as a kid, but everyone around me knows how to play basketball, football, and soccer.

5. Do you use sarcasm?

Yes, but mostly to make highly-referential jokes for queer people.

6. What’s the first thing you notice about people?

Generally their mood. I find myself reading body language to see what kind of interaction I'm about to have.

7. What’s your eye color?

Dark brown. I'm melanated.

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

Happy endings. I am Black and gay. I get enough real moments where my fight or flight instincts get triggered without seeking that out for fun.

9. Any talents?

Maybe? I seem to remember the years that films came out pretty quickly. I generally have a pretty good memory, am a solid communicator, and feel like I'm pretty quick at problem solving. I am also a very good warthog driver in Halo.

10. Where were you born?

This is a security question, but I'm from the US Gulf Coast.

11. What are your hobbies

I love D&D, and have moved to Pathfinder 2e recently. I'm still having a ton of fun with the hobby. I like building stories with my friends and having those stories evolve out of the drama of adventuring. I'm also a queer cinephile and avid BL fan. Other than that, I'm a fan of cities. I spend a lot of time thinking about urban flood adaptation.

12. Do you have any pets?

My roommate has a cat. His name is Bahamut. He can be rather loud.

13. How tall are you?

I'm a short king! I'm 5'5"

14. Favorite subject in school?

Math and history. I like problems with mostly clear solutions and I like knowing where we came from. I'm kind of obsessed with the Bronze Age Collapse.

15. Dream job?

I don't dream of work, but I would like to devote my energy into sustainable urbanism. It'd be nice if I could make a living doing that and also enjoy my hobbies.

I think most folks have done this by now, but tag back if you do it after seeing mine!

#tag game

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windvexer · 3 months

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Hey! Got a question if you don't mind.

So ive been working with one of my deities for over a year, maybe 2, and she has been such a wonderful presence. Shes kind, gentle, and really helps me get through stuff. She gives me wonderful advice and is like a mother to me. The vibes are always peaceful and safe.

Recently i asked her how i can grow stronger in my craft and give my spells a bigger punch. Since i don't feel comfortable with something like an animal sacrifice, she suggested i offer a few drops of my own blood. She explained that creating a bond with her in that way could allow her to help more, and that there is no way she'd ever take something like life force or anything, only the physical blood and nothing else. I felt safe about her request and liked the idea.

Now i haven't done it yet but someone told me today that i shouldn't do that, that its very dangerous and my deity is out to get me.

I know this is most likely fear mongering, but it still scared me. What is your opinion? Do you agree this person doesn't know what their talking about or do you think i should be worried? Thanks

Things which have more power are not inherently evil, and entities which engage in that power are not automatically liars and parasites.

Feeding your blood to any entity (or however it's framed - offering, sacrificing, etc) isn't something to be done lightly, because it does create a stronger bond between you and that thing. I strongly recommend asking your goddess if there are going to be new levels of commitment and engagement that are created if you take this path. Sometimes, feeding of blood can be initiatory in ways we don't expect - and it has nothing to do with "taking life-force."

But the idea that the gods know how to form stronger links with individual humans, and sometimes agree to engage in that practice, doesn't mean they are "out to get us."

Asking a god how to make your spells stronger, and they recommend something widely and popularly known to make spells stronger, is IMO not a red flag or even a leap in logic.

You didn't say whether or not you're a witch, but you did message a witchcraft blog, so:

I believe that if accumulating power is your aim, there's really only so far you can go without starting to make some serious commitments.

Feeding your blood to an entity with the goal of forming a stronger bond and empowering your magic is a commitment, no doubt about it.

But that's what it is. It's a sacrifice. It's sorcery. You used spiritual techniques to work with your god and discover the next step forward. You use learning to understand the significance and impact of blood in magic. You choose to travel down that path and see where it takes you, or you decline and seek other options.

I don't want to decry your friend. Maybe they've had very bad personal experiences with blood magic. I have, that's for sure. I've also had bad experiences with letting the wrong entities in. But my pitfalls weren't so much a blood magic thing as it was a 20-year-old-idiot-realizes-magic-is-real, predictable-results-ensue sort of thing.

So I say think it through, consider your options, and do what feels right. Just be prepared for things to maybe get a little more intense than you thought they would.

But there's no way to get around that part. Stronger magic lends itself to more intense experiences. There's no way to dive into the deep end while staying dry.

#answered

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ottiliere · 6 months

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hello! ur posts on the vagus nerve and its connections to digestions have encouraged me to do a lil mini dissertation thingy kinda focused on it/around it, ur big thread on PVT and everything really piqued my interest when i read it and i just held onto it for like a year or smthing until like last week when i started the project. Ik u said recently in one of ur posts i believe that ur not going to post the big dirk PVT post and im not here to be like yo post it because i also think u said that ur kinda moving away from like hs/dirky stuff rn ?? (im forgetting if i saw that sorry) but yeah i just wanted to say thank u etc etc, like ive never done an ask before so sorry if this is phrased weirdly but ur blog is just like one of those blogs that fundamentally changed how i view certain things in life for the better lol, like whether its ur beautiful representations / depictions of mental health in like just beautifully painted art (seriously the way u make it look like idk how to word it cartoony/really 2d but then it stands out against the background + if u zoom in and see the tiny pixel details == it makes me mad) or just like the huggeee long form posts that i like to chew on and save cuz theres so many details that AFFAAT like the way you talk abt the topics u portray has made me concious of how i would want to do so in the same way ig u get me. anyway this got really long and idk if i come across coherently, but ur just a random person on the internet whos art and written thoughts that u decide to share makes me happy when i see it == makes me pace around my room and distract me from this fat essay lmao so tldr: i really appreciate what u do + i hope like that ur doing well and that u keep arting and thoughting no matter what it is that u choose to focus on

(uve made me comitted to reading jthm, playing psychonauts and giving jjba w/ dio another go lmao) 🫶🫶

Hello! I’m sorry this reply is coming so late, this ask in particular is very sweet and has stuck out to me.

I’m really happy to have introduced you to PVT, this is something I’ve heard from a few different people on here and it’s very sweet… I did my thesis on it in college and the time really flew by while working on it, things you don't think could possibly attributed to "nerve issues" being nerve issues is always an eye-opener, isn't it? being able to research things that interest you & access information in general really is a privilege in this day and age.

“The topics [I] portray” are very important to me, so it’s heartening when others take interest in spite of the obvious deterrents. A lot of what I love making art about is unpalatable to most, and while I do understand the reasons for that on principle, it can make things feel a little insular. I genuinely believe there’s a lot of value in depicting tableaus of misery.

The last year has brought a lot of very unforeseen changes, and my life is quite different from when I initially made this blog to post about him! That’s also part of why I’ve been so sparse here…though I’m working to change that quite soon. I love sharing my work, and I’ve had the privilege of meeting some truly wonderful people through this website. That said…with where I’m at now, I’m not sure I’ll be posting the Dirk essay anytime soon, I’m afraid.

I’ve undertaken a few ongoing projects, one of which in particular is an original project I plan on sharing publicly here hopefully within the next month or so. I hope it’s something you & anyone else who’s stuck around with me here will enjoy, but failing that, I’ve really enjoyed working on it thus far.

Thank you for the sweet ask, take care, and good luck with your project!

#ask #I'm not afraid to admit that my fondness for dio is entirely contingent on things I made up about him in my head over the years.#there's a draft here filled with thousands of words about him that I started writing up in response to some ask I got earlier this year #but I never finished it... :( and I also never posted the dozens and dozens of pictures I frenetically drew of him either. maybe someday #on another note: I did my yearly reread of johnny the other month. I'll do something big with him one day but this year is not the year #similarly sasha answers in the queue. I'm glad you enjoyed psychonauts it's one of the greatest games ever visually and re: gameplay. etc #lucy art

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spotty-is-slumberous · 2 months

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So… this is. A bit of an emotional post for me to make, and I’ve rewritten it a few times and cried over it far more, just because I’ve been feeling very lost and hopeless recently, and I just… really want some advice. Some suggestions. … Some comfort, even.

I turn 20 in April. I spent my last “milestone” birthday, the 18th, half-convinced that I was dying because I had undiagnosed POTS, narcolepsy, and intense chronic pain that genuinely made me feel like I was on death’s door… so, uh, I didn’t really do anything special for that birthday. Or my 19th, as I was also in very poor health… though I’ve now come to the understanding, two years later, that this “poor health” is just. Not ever going to get better.

I haven’t done something “big” for a birthday since I was a lot younger. And with the way things are shaping up for me, this might be the last birthday I’m able to share with my family before I’m inevitably kicked out because I just can’t keep up with college and the deal was I either stay in school or work to stay at home, and I can’t get a physical job for reasons that’ll become clearer later on.

So… This all to say, I’d like to do something “big” for this birthday. But… I have some pretty heavy restrictions. I don’t have a wheelchair (The cheapest one I have my eye on is about $300 out of pocket, and I just. Don’t have that money. Ive been trying to save up for that, though, as it would help me get an actual job + let me get out of my house more with significantly less worry… I’ve been begging my doctors to help me get it covered by insurance, but they claim that it’ll just make me regress, which is… a whole other issue) and can only walk maybe 5-10 minutes with a cane before I need to rest. If I push myself, I’ll be bedbound with blinding pain for the next day or so, or I’ll just straight up pass out — or, usually, both. The weather is turning warmer, and I have a severe case of heat intolerance, so I can’t be outside for long.

I’m not a fan of museums or aquariums or the like… Im not smart enough for escape rooms… Bowling is out. Most arcades are out. I don’t live in a very accessible town… I don’t really want to go and see a movie; that just doesn’t feel like “enough” of a thing to go and do… So, my point here is: Does anyone have any suggestions for what I could possibly go out and do? Just random local town suggestions… I like writing and reading and art and animals haha, if that helps spark anything…

Sorry if this is just… dumb. I probably won’t get a lot of answers anyway, I’m just… I want to do something. And I’d just like some suggestions… maybe some reassurance that it’ll get better someday, and I’ll be able to have a normal birthday again… I dunno’.

Thank you for reading :) and thank you for any suggestions

#spotty speaks #actually disabled #disabled #pots #postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome #chronically ill #advice #disability advice #young disabled #disability #disability community #I’m just… lost. I want to feel like a kid and just…. have fun. and not be a burden on anybody #I’ve been sobbing for like the past 30 minutes as I write this ugh #like I said… any advice or suggestions would be good :)#disabled community #disabled advice #advice wanted #suggestions wanted

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notzawzark · 1 year

Text

GHOST (mw2) X MALE READER (platonic)

NOT ROMANCE, uh, reader kinda already had a backstory, so kinda bordering on oc, but things like his hight/skincolor/appearance in general is kept blank.

its kinda dogshit looking back on it, so dont expect it to be like.. good, in any sense of the word, its riddled with plot holes and like. writting inconsistency. and also the writting as a whole is just.. mid

TW/CW's: torture, implications towards past abuse, maybe other stuff, but you get the gist, if you your not for any of this, dont read, keep yourself safe

“so..” I break the silence that had once held the room hostage. “you're ghost.” I didn't expect him to actually get captured, let alone get captured alive. Looking through all the intel we have on him, by all means we shouldn’t have been able to get him alive.

I doubt doing this will prove fruitfull.

Were both sat In an “interrogation” room. Only recently was it promoted as such. It used to be more of a “torture and kill” room. Its empty for the most part, only a metal table, two old wood chairs sitting across from each other, and a few pieces of paper with a pencil on my side of the table.

A door behind me, no windows, walls made of some bleak concrete. There are two guards outside the room blocking the door. Not for me. For him. Hes tied up, the boss was never one to take chances. Neither would I with the record and reputation this man has racked up.

“you probably know why you’re here..” I look around “ in this… room.” He doesn’t budge. The mask makes this infinitely harder. “you should probably get comfortable.. I don’t see you leaving anytime soon.” I sigh. I don’t see him leaving ever. Hell probably get killed before he ever gets that luxury.

“ill be completely honest with you. My.. boss, along with all my associates think that what im doing is pointless. They all want to tear into that skin of yours.” I put my feet onto the table. Taking a deep breath in trying to figure out how to word my next sentence.

“I don’t think any of that will work.” Its blunt, but its true. “I think” I pick up the pencil on the table and start tapping it absentmindedly. “that no amount of pain, or threatening of your life, or humiliation will make you to tell them what they want to hear.” I look him dead in the eyes, trying to gage how he reacts. “I think that shit just brews spite.”

Nothing. Honestly its kind of uncomfortable. Staring into his unblinking eyes. They always kinda look glazed over, and red, like he doesn’t sleep much. “I hope you can help me prove them wrong. Because once im done here today theyre going to start torturing you.” I look away. The eye contact is to uncomfortable. “so, whats your real name, ghost?” he doesn’t respond. “what is it.. jack? Is it.. jason?” (I wrote this at 2 am, and thought that jason was ghosts brothers kid, im pretty sure that isnt right, but ignore it, his name is jason now) theres something in his eyes when I say the name jason, but I don’t think its his name. maybe someone he knows. Or knew. “ill be honest im trying to think of british sounding names, and I cant find any.” I crack a joke. Obviously, he doesnt respond.

I sigh. This is going to take awhile. I suggest a few more names. Jason was the only thing that he reacted at. A small reaction however. It could have just been my mind playing tricks. “what about your family?” hopefully this gives me more. “what was your mom like?” nothing. “your dad?” an eye dart. There. That. That is what I needed. I hum, its low, its clearly satisfied. He picks up on it. “your dad, was he a good man,”

Shit. Nothing. Hes either correcting himself now because He knows what im doing. That im trying to get a stir out of him. Or I was mistaken about his reaction. I continue. “was he a bad man?” nothing. Im going to kill myself. “my dad was a bad man.” He shows a hint of confusion. I assume he wasn’t expecting me to talk about myself. “I mean he wasn’t a horrible man from what Ive heard. But he left me and my mom.” I get up from my spot on my chair, and hop up, sitting on the edge of the table to his right. I can see his face better now.

“and a good person doesn’t leave their family, now do they?”

He shifts his focus over to my new spot. He wants to talk. I don’t know what he wants to say, but I can feel his eagerness in the air. “from what I hear you have a dead brother.” Surprise, then anger, then sadness. He looks away. Off to his left. That makes things harder. “how old are you?” he looks to the table as he asks me a question. He seems genuinely curious. “well your definitely British, Jesus.” I remark on his accent. He looks up at me, unamused with my observation.

“im 20.” He doesn’t buy it at all. “19” he seems even less convinced. “17” his eyes narrow. “fine, 16..” I mumble looking at the ground. I don’t see his reaction, but it doesn’t matter. “what is someone your age doing workin’ for a group like this?” I side eye him. “and what is someone of your status doing getting caught by a group like this?” he grunts and goes back to looking to his left.

I sigh, I probably shouldn’t have retorted with that. I might just have sent myself back to square one. “what do you do with your free time, mr. ghost?” he doesn’t respond yet again. I definitely sent myself back to square one. I get off of the table, back into my seat across from him, “have you ever had any pets?” I look up at him, to see his reaction.

It’s a very telling reaction. Hes uncomfortable. “yes? No?” nothing. I look back down, grabbing a piece of paper, and the pencil, I start drawing him. He doesn’t know that though, or at least I assume he doesn’t. I might be a bit more obvious then I want to be. “whats your favorite animal?” I look up again. Hes uncomfortable, less then before, but that’s probably just him regulating it. “mine are snakes.”

He closes his eyes. Ive definitely found something. Theres a moment of silence. “I like the big yellow ones.” He opens his eyes. “I also like the folklore and stories behind snakes.” Hes disengaged. Fuck.

I back down. “who is your favorite artist.” Safer. “music, painting, writing it doesn’t matter.” I focus on my drawing. Im not looking to get a reaction. ”don’t have one.” He answers. “why not?” a genuine question. “don’t have time to have one.”

“well I mean, you cant be working all the time, you get a few weeks off after each mission right?”

“no.”

I hum a response. High pitched. Acknowledging what he said. I begin to get more focused on my drawing, talking less and less. Eventually were both sitting in silence, the only noise in the room being my pencil scratching against the paper.

“you like art?” he nods to the drawings in front of me.

“it passes the time.”

He doesn’t say anything after that. An hour passes by. Im done. Well. As done as ill ever be. I stand up, pushing my chair back. Eyes fixated on my art. Analyzing it to no end. I pick it up, and place it infront of ghost, while I stand close beside him.

“your eyes are expressive.” It sounds creepier then I meant it to. He looks down at it. He really looks at it. Not just a glance over. taking a few minutes. for a bit I think hes fallen asleep until he speaks. “impressive.”

That’s all he has to say? He looks at a drawing for three minutes in silence, and all he has to say is one word? ‘impressive????’ that’s it????? This guy is gonna make me shoot myself. “thank you.” I try my best to make it sound earnest. A very difficult task.

I sit back down at my chair. Hes still looking at the art. “theyre probably gonna come soon.” He looks confused at first, but then it clicks. Hes gonna meet those associates i mentioned earlier. “but if you give me as much as a hint of what they want to hear, I can probably stop him.” Ghost doesn’t respond. Quiet as always. I sigh and lean back in my chair. He looks down to the drawing again. “you ever been drawn before?” I ask

“negative.”

What freak talks like that? Negative??? I get hes in the military but Jesus fucking christ. “you can keep it if you get out of here alive.” I laugh at my own joke under my breath.

“hold onto it. I don’t want it getting bloody.” He looks up from the drawing. Completely deadpan. I cant tell wether hes joking or not.

The door behind me opens, I get up off my chair. “heyyy.” I greet the man at the door from my spot. Hes big. Big big. Probably 6’7-6’8. Sturdy build. Hes always been scary, but I guess that’s a part of the magic. He rolls in a cart im unpleasantly familiar with. It has an assortment of metal tools. For all sorts of different things.

“(reader).”he acknowledges me. his voice always finding a way to unsettle me. He walks past me, dragging his cart of goodies with him. He stops. Grabbing onto ghosts chair, the wood making a shrill sound as he trudges it to the back wall. He takes his cart with him. Ghosts breathing has gone rapid. Mine probably would too. Scratch that. Mine definitely would too.

I grab my drawing off the table. I don’t want to be in here. I start to leave. “(reader), leaving so soon?” the big man turns around, some horrible device already in his hands. Im quiet. I have to watch what I say around him. “yeah.” I search for the right words. “you know I don’t like loud sounds.” Its true, I don’t. theres a tenseness in the room. Like a twig bending before it finally snaps.

He turns his normal sick expression into a hallow smile. “how forgetful of me.” He turns back to ghost. Whose eyes are darting around the room. Probably looking for a way out. He closes them shut tightly, and I find that my queue to leave. I quickly walk through the door, past the guards, and out into the hallway.

That night wasn’t a very restful one. the concrete walls might as well have been made of paper.

boom, you made it to the end, wow thats rad, heres an emoji : 🤯

ALSO if i do continue this, ghost and reader are prob gonna have like a father/son or older/younger brother bond. but yeah. uh i hoped you liked the fanfic.

#ghost mw2 #simon riley #call of duty mw2 #call of duty modern warfare #simon riley x reader #x reader #male reader #platonic reader #mw2 fanfic #fanfic #reader fanfiction

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