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xxsabitoxx · 7 months

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As a late birthday gift for @renhoeku - here are some Sugar Daddy Satoru thoughts... cause why tf not

First of all, Satoru wouldn't be in it to gain anything, truly. He can't even begin to describe what it is about you that is just so... intoxicating to him. He wants you, sure he does, but what he wants to do more is spoil the fuck out of you. Something about you drives him absolutely wild. Maybe it's the way you smile at him, or maybe it's the way you get so excited when talking about the things you love, he can't quite place his finger on it but it makes his heart do backflips.

Satoru isn't subtle with his offer to you, stating very bluntly that he wants you to be his sugar baby - nothing in return, no catches, nothing you need to repay - he just wants to spoil you the way you deserve to be spoiled. The first time he takes you out shopping, he finds it utterly adorable that you are so hesitant to pick things out. So, he observes you closely, following you around each store you enter and noting the items you admire before inevitably telling him there is nothing there you want. Lies, of course, but you aren't used to someone being so willing to drop tens of thousands of dollars on you in one day.

Satoru drags you back to every store you "didn't want anything" in and calls over an employee. You're stunned to silence when Satoru requests to buy every single item you had been wistfully observing. When I tell you he has no limits either? Doesn't matter if it was a $2 hand sanitizer or a $15k purse, he's buying it with no hesitation. He doesn't care what he buys, so long as you are happy. A new wardrobe, perfumes, accessories, makeup, hair products, shoes, books, art supplies, collectibles, food, whatever the hell your heart desires - Satoru is buying it with a smile on his face.

He's addicted to how your eyes light up, every single time, without fail. He can't get enough of your sweet "thank you!" and the little kisses you give him after. He can't help but laugh when you jokingly ask him if there is anything he wants in return. He's honest with his answers when he boldly claims that you and your smile are all he desires. The way your eyes widen, the small gasp that leaves you, it makes his heart flutter with need.

18+ content below the cut~

Satoru refuses to initiate anything romantic with you. Not because he doesn't want to - because fuck does he want to - but because he doesn't want you thinking he's only doing this to earn your love.

Lucky for him, it's impossible for you to not catch feelings. You can tell he's genuine, even though you had your doubts at first. You were delighted to know that Satoru really was doing this because he wanted to, not because he had something to gain.

So, one night, after months of this "sugar daddy" relationship, you finally decided to return the favor to him. Even though you knew he would get mad at you for it, you bought yourself the prettiest lingerie you could afford with your own money. You got it in his favorite color and put it on under a little dress that hugged your body perfectly. Your plan was to seduce him, and reward him for treating you like a goddess these past few months. When he got home from work that night, he was surprised to see you sitting on his couch dressed in the most jaw dropping attire he had ever seen

"What's this?" Satoru murmured softly, cheeks flushing pink as you got up and sauntered over to him. His blew eyes were locked on the dangerous sway of your hips. "It's my treat to you, Toru~. You've been treating me so well, I want to return the favor." "You know you don't have to... I made it clear I was doing this because I wanted to..." He didn't want you to feel obligated to return the favor in any capacity. But, you shushed him, placing a delicate hand on his bicep. "I told you, Toru, I want to do this... I've been wanting to for a while now... you deserve it."

He was sold, the little self-restraint he had went flying out the window after you uttered those pretty words. Satoru ended up taking you then and there on his way too-expensive white couch. He had teased you the whole time, telling you it would be a shame if you were to ruin his furniture with your arousal. All the while he was praising you for knowing him so well, actually taking the time to admire your body in the lingerie before tearing it off of you. You had told him you bought it yourself, laughing as he scolded you - marking your neck with his teeth before whispering about how he'd repay you for it.

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wen-kexing-apologist · 8 months

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You're Mine No Matter What: The Commodification of Sand

I have been thinking a lot in the last couple weeks about the dynamic between Ray and Sand, namely the significant imbalance between Sand and Ray in their relationship to one another that has been at the very least, fun to watch, even as I have been slightly miffed at Sand being so much of a simp for Ray when Ray does not reciprocate these feelings.

Now, @emotionallychargedtowel had a brilliant write up about Sand’s possible parentification and resulting need to play the caretaker for the people around him, which everyone should read. I loved it a lot because it puts Sand in to perspective, that he can be jerked around and insulted and still have care and still want to help the person who is actively and intentionally trying to insult him. Sand likes Ray, that much has been clear from the moment Ray rested his head on Sand’s shoulder after puking in Episode 1, but Ray? Ray does not see Sand the same way, as much as his puppy dog eyes may lead Sand to believe.

To Ray, who is rich, and difficult to manage, and holds on so tightly to the belief he is a burden, Sand is a commodity, something Ray owns. And it is absolutely hilarious to me that I was thinking about trying to do this write up and drop it before Episode 8, and decided I should wait. AND I AM SO GLAD I DID BECAUSE RAY LITERALLY SAID AS MUCH TO SAND THIS EPISODE.

Listen, I love First and I love Khao and I love FirstKhao’s chemistry, but in no way, shape, or form do I want Ray and Sand to end up together, they are terrible for each other, and Sand’s lack of self respect at this point is a motherfucking tragedy. I mean, think about it, what care has Ray given to Sand?

Drove Sand to his apartment after the party (and then ditched him in the middle of a make out)

Offered to buy him a guitar

What care has Sand given to Ray?

Driven him home and taken care of him when he was blackout drunk

Hung out with him when no one else was around to care: Paid

Hung out with him when no one else was around to care: For Free

Cooked food for Ray

Changed his work schedule to play at the hostel party

Cooked breakfast for Ray

Let Ray use him as an excuse to not go to work and instead spending the day with him on Sand’s birthday

Helped Ray change his clothes

Followed after Ray and tried to stop him from drunk driving after Ray called him a whore

Saved Ray from his car accident

(Most likely) agreed to something from Ray’s dad

Took care of Ray when he was injured including helping him shave and bathe.

Tried to save Ray from getting caught with drugs by the cops after Ray interrupted his time with another guy and kissed him without consent

Tried to fight the cops to get them to let Ray go after Ray essentially said that he owned Sand.

Sand is poor, he’s booked and busy, he’s barely got time of his own to spend on the things he enjoys, he is fundamentally a caretaker, juggling school, multiple jobs, and his mother’s health. We see how much of grind Sand’s life is in the montage at the beginning of Episode 5, he does not have room to slip another person in to his life, hell, the boy barely has any friends. He’s never hanging out with anyone unless it’s Nick and he’s at home. So it is very important to keep in mind that Sand is making time for Ray. Sand has a life that is jam packed and stressful, and Ray keeps asking for more and more of Sand’s time. Time Sand cannot really afford to give and gives it anyway.

Sand is a caretaker, Sand has a crush on Ray, Sand cannot say no to Ray’s puppy dog eyes and chronic need for help. And the tragedy here is that there is a world where I can see how Sand convinced himself that he and Ray were maybe moving in the same direction. Because Ray couldn’t let go. They fucked once, and Sand said that Ray was going to keep wanting him, and he was right. From the very beginning of their relationship to one another, Ray has been the one constantly asking for and initiating physical intimacy with Sand. The first time we see Sand initiate anything really isn’t until Episode 5 when he goes slack jawed looking at Ray before they kiss and even then Ray is the one that leans in to meet him. Ray is the pursuer here, Ray is the one that stalks Sand, Ray is the one that interrupts Sand’s next one night stand, Ray is the one that is always asking if he can stay over, that is asking for help, that is asking for sex. So of course Sand is going to start thinking some type of way about what he and Ray are to each other, even if they haven’t had any conversations about the nature of their relationship.

But I think Sand is so used to taking care of other people that he hasn’t really gotten it through his head that Ray doesn’t not feel the same. We see every twist of the knife in Sand’s face in Episode 5 whenever he is reminded of that fact. But I think that despite the shit that Ray has put him through, Sand hasn’t fully realized, or at least, he is refusing to admit it to himself that there is no scenario where Ray falls in love with him, because to Ray, Sand is a commodity.

Sand is something to be bought.

Sand is someone Ray can go to when he wants to be serviced.

Sand is his favorite toy.

Ray doesn’t like Sand, Ray likes the attention, Ray likes being noticed, Ray likes being cared for, because in his life, his friends mostly ignore him, his father mostly ignores him, his mother is dead and he grew up knowing that she hated him. Ray fell in love with Mew because Mew gave him attention and care, because Ray held him in the bathtub while he sobbed, and Ray has never been able to let go of that idea. But so too, has Ray not been able to let go of the other person who is providing happiness on tap.

favorite photo ever, courtesy of @liyazaki

There are two critical details to remember about Ray. One- Ray is rich, Two- Ray has substance use disorder. Which means that Ray is constantly looking for the next thing that will make him feel good. He drinks to forget, he does cocaine, Ray by nature of his substance dependency does not have a concept of delayed gratification. Ray is extremely rooted in the present, in whatever dopamine hit is within the closest reach. And Sand and his natural tendency to give everything he has is one of the easiest things for him to reach for. Every time that Sand has tried to set a boundary, Ray has crossed it because he knows Sand has feelings for him, he knows he can manipulate that if he just begs cute enough. When he wants sex, he can get sex, when he wants adventure, he can get adventure, when he wants care, he can get care quick, easy, and cheap. Ray paid Sand once for his time, and learned he could be bought, and he has held on to that one time subscription fee extremely tightly.

When it comes to Ray and Sand, there is no winning for Sand that is not defined by the two of them never seeing each other again. Because the second that Ray paid Sand for his time, Sand became Ray’s property, and Ray has never stopped thinking of Sand as such. And we know this is true because of everything Ray does and says related to Sand showing any level of autonomy that runs counter to Ray’s vested interests.

Ray pays for Sand to hang out with him, and soon afterwards, Sand tries to bring a girl home from the bar for a one night stand, only for Ray to interrupt them. Sand ends up going home with Ray instead. Ray convinces Sand to keep making out with him in the car, and then casts Sand aside the second that Mew calls. Sand tries to put up a barrier and Ray is like “yeah sure I’ll care about your feelings, why don’t I buy you a guitar?” because Ray is rich, and so his first solution to conflict is to throw money at the problem, but Sand is easily sated by a little bit of crossed thumbs.

Sand tries to set another boundary in Episode 6 after he learns that Ray has a crush on Mew, and Ray blows right through that boundary by as @emotionallychargedtowel calls it, “aggressively falling apart”. Ray, to be fair to him is not getting drunk and falling to pieces to intentionally rope Sand back in to his gravity, but Sand’s long held tendencies to help people are going to send him back to Ray every time, because Ray is desperately in need of help and no one else can really be fucked.

If we weren’t already aware of Ray’s tendency to think of Sand as property, we get another great indication of Ray’s mentality around Sand in the same episode. When Ray is going off on everyone at the bar on Mew’s birthday, Sand tries to step in to stop Ray’s escalation. Ray does not take kindly to this, and says to Sand’s face, in public “You don’t wanna be a singer. You just want to make money. If you want it so much, why don’t you sleep with me?” thus associating Sand’s moments of physical intimacy and sex with Ray as purchasable, as commodities. Why? Because Sand could be bought once, and thus can be bought again. Ray doesn’t think about Sand as a suitor, he thinks of Sand as a whore, and again he says as much when Sand runs after Ray to try to stop him from drunk driving.

Sand: “Stop thinking about Mew and focus on me for once. Can’t you really see that I care about you?”

Ray: “Why would you poke your nose in my business? What are we to each other? What are we?”

Sand: “Right. We are nothing to each other, but at least I am your fellow human. I don’t want you to drive when drunk. You can risk your life all you want. But don’t you dare risk other people’s lives too.”

Ray: “Let go of me you shit. Let go. Or I need to pay you, whore?”

And thus we have our answer to Ray’s initial question, “What are we to each other?” “whore”. When Ray is wasted, and pissed, and Sand is showing active defiance over Ray’s behavior, Ray reverts immediately back in to the mindset that Sand is owned, that his behavior, his choices, his morals can be changed if enough money is handed to him. Because Ray has bought Sand before, because Sand is poor, and Ray is rich, and Ray thinks that the only thing that Sand could possibly want is more money.

Sand will commit crimes for money (making and selling plum wine). Sand will hang out with Ray for money. Sand will sing for money. Ray comes from a world with money, it is not absent struggle, but Ray’s struggles are more internal, engrained in his family dynamics. He has never had to worry about making enough money for rent, he has never had to worry about violence being done to him or a loved one from debtors when they can’t pay their interest on time, Ray has never had to live in a world without money, and it is clear from the first episode that Ray is someone that looks down on poor people, the way he immediately accuses Sand of stealing from him when he wakes up in Sand’s apartment.

And again, to be fair to Ray, he is not the only one. A couple of the other rich boys look down on Sand the same way. Mew wants Ray to lower his standards and settle for Sand, as if a relationship with Sand would somehow be lesser, when Sand is a good person who cares about and takes good care of Ray, he’s just poor. Top, similar looks down on Sand, he stole his boyfriend, he thinks absolutely nothing of Sand.

Ray gets in a car accident, Sand saves his life, and then Ray’s expectation from there is that Sand will take care of him. Sand (who has very limited funds compared to Ray) buys him a drink, he helps him strip, he helps him shave, he waits hand and foot on Ray. And how does Ray repay him? By jumping in to a relationship with Mew the very second an opportunity presents itself, leaving Sand once again in the dust. Because Ray doesn’t ever actually take Sand’s feelings in to consideration when he is making decisions. Sand is a plaything to Ray, and Ray has a shinier new offer dangling in front of him.

Sand, once again, tries to set a boundary, establish a barrier, remind himself and remind Ray that they aren’t friends, they haven’t been friends, and Sand is trying to be the bigger, better person by letting Ray go, by telling him he is happy for Ray to have finally gotten what he wanted in his relationship with Mew. And throughout the entire exchange, Ray keeps looking so confused when he hears Sand’s consistent rejection of Ray’s wishes about how he and Sand will move forward in their relationship to one another now that Ray is dating Mew.

“So what’s up with Mew? I heard he broke up with Top” Sand asks, and Ray swallows hard, in a way that I personally read as guilty.

“Good, you can finally end the secret crush. Such a waste of time, right?” a confession from Sand that Ray picks up on.

“Are you okay?” Ray asks, this is the second time that Ray has tried to check in on Sand after his relationship to Mew got in the way of his relationship to Sand.

“Why wouldn’t I be? You’re seeing someone you always loved. It’s a dream come true.” Sand once again is not acknowledging out loud or honestly his own feelings, but he is putting his own feelings aside to acknowledge Ray’s feelings. To try to, even still, even after how shittily Ray has treated him, even after how much Ray has taken Sand’s care for granted, spare Ray from feeling bad about fucking with his feelings.

“Can we still be friends?” Ray asks, because he hasn’t ever had actual consequences for his behavior before.

“Friends? You and I have never been friends from the get-go. We have nothing in common. Besides, I don’t know why I should be friends with you.” Sand replies, again trying to create a barrier between him and Ray that allows him to be free from Ray’s gravity.

“But, when I’m with you, I’m so damn happy.” Ray says, because shit like that has always worked with Sand in the past: “Can we hang out together?”, “jerking off feels so good when you’re hungover”, “can you help me?”, and for the first time it really seems like Sand is sticking to his guns.

*deep breath from Sand, who seems like he is fighting back tears he is so upset at hearing that Ray is happy with him and yet having Ray deny that in favor of chasing his next piece of ass* “You will be too when you spend time with Mew. What you did with me, you will get to do it with him. You might even be happier.”

Sand tries to walk away and Ray grabs him by the arm, because Ray has never once let Sand maintain a boundary, “Sand.”

gif from @liyazaki

“Let me go already.” Sand replies, and Sand here is begging Ray not only to literally let him go, but metaphorically, emotionally, to free Sand of this back and forth. To release him from this existence as someone to be jerked around, whose feelings can be trifled with because Ray isn’t fully capable of seeing Sand as a person with his own feelings that are impacted by the choices that Ray makes.

And because Ray cannot let it go, cannot just let his precious toys leave him, he remains adamant about blowing past barriers as often as possible when it comes to his interactions with Sand. Sand literally asks Ray to let him go, and not long after that Ray is wandering back in to the study room where Sand is, trying to get them back on good terms. But again, to point out that Ray commodifies Sand, what is it that Ray is asks him for? Is it to go out to dinner with him? Is it to just hang out and chill? To go to the bar? Is it to apologize for his behavior?

No.

Ray asks Sand to come with him to do social work, to come with him to play music for children. Why? Because Sand knows how to play guitar, and Ray knows that he can wear Sand down eventually. But it bears reminding that Ray’s social work is court ordered, he is literally asking Sand to suffer the (very minimal) consequences of Ray’s drunk driving with him, and he’s trying to pick the social work option that is the least miserable, the least amount of work, and he is trying to rope in the only person he knows who can get him out of the types of social work that involve manual labor. Because Ray cannot play an instrument, so he would not be able to play music for children without Sand’s presence.

Once again, Ray proves that he is not capable of associating Sand with anything other than a service provider.

Or, as we see later on in the episode, as property.

Because here Ray is, fucking with Sand’s feelings, dating Mew, making out with Mew at the party and there Sand is, not wanting to be at this party in the least but going anyway because he feels bad about what he did to Nick by stealing and sharing that TopBoston audio file, trying to move on, trying to kiss a random stranger with mutual interests at this party, only to have…

Ray interrupt them before they can kiss, squeeze himself physically in between Sand and Freddie #2, and asking if the two of them have slept together.

“Did you sleep with him?”

“Damn it, Ray. Are you high? How about you go to sleep?”

“I want to sleep with you. Or what, should we invite Mr. Freddie here to sleep with us? Let’s do it, I’ll go first,”

AND THEN RAY GRABS SAND AND KISSES HIM WITHOUT HIS CONSENT (which I am pretty certain Mew would consider cheating especially after the whole ordeal with Top) when Sand was just about to consensually kiss someone who wasn’t Ray (again, Ray is unable to let Sand ever exhibit his own autonomy). Until Freddie #2 leaves them alone, assuming they are in a relationship, and not wanting to get involved with “someone else’s boyfriend”

“What the fuck is this. You have Mew now. What do you want from me? Go guard your boyfriend,”

“I can have feelings for as many people as I want,”

“But you can’t do this to me,”

“Stop fooling yourself, Sand. You like me,” Ray points “You love me. You can’t walk away from me. You’re mine no matter what.”

gif by @moonkhao

and there is a reason why they put Ray in the fucking Joker’s costume for this episode, cause that boy is acting toxic as all hell. So even now, Ray isn’t sated, Ray made his choices, Ray picked Mew, Ray left Sand in the dust, but Ray cannot separate Sand’s autonomy out from Ray’s possession of him. I love Only Friends for the level of hypocrisy they allow their characters to have. Ray is allowed to date and have feelings for Mew, and to want Sand, but Sand is not allowed to move on from Ray, Sand is not allowed to have feelings for other people, let alone just make out with a stranger or fuck somebody else without any feelings involved.

And I cannot stress enough that this is shitty behavior on Ray’s part, this isn’t cute, this isn’t funny, the extent to which Ray is possessive over a person he has no right to act that way towards is inconsiderate, rude, and objectifying. Sand is not allowed to have his own thoughts, Ray must put words in his mouth. Sand is not allowed to move on from Ray, Ray will keep pushing Sand’s boundaries until Sand relents because Ray knows he can manipulate Sand’s feelings for him, Sand will always be a caretaker and Ray will always need taking care of. Sand is maybe waking up to this fact, or maybe the horror in his eyes when Ray is yelling at him is Sand realizing at the very least that Ray knows how Sand feels about him, and Sand is admitting to himself in this moment that like Nick, he can’t help but love this person who has treated him poorly.

Because Sand is a caretaker, and caretakers, at least in my own experience, are used to having their own wants and needs trampled over. No boundary withstands first contact with someone in need of help. I have tried to reach out and give support to people that I know didn’t like me after they went through hard times together, I don’t talk to my friends about shit that is actually and actively impactful to my mental health and wellbeing, many of the people I am friends with frequently only reach out when they need something from me. If they needed homework answers, or if they needed observation, or if they needed to be picked up early in the morning from the airport and otherwise they never really talked to me. Like, I get a lot of where Sand is coming from with his need to take care of Ray because Ray is a young adult, going through a lot, in need of a lot of professional help he isn’t getting, and Sand can’t not be compelled to help him as much as he can.

And listen, in my opinion some of Sand’s actions with Ray are justified from a safety perspective, Sand is a caretaker, Sand knows Ray is willing to drink and drive, Sand puts his pride aside to try and ensure that Ray doesn’t leave in his car, and then follows him to make sure that he doesn’t get in to an accident. Those actions make sense to me.

gif from @bird-inacage

Sand doesn’t want Ray to get in to any more legal trouble, so tries to hide the evidence of drugs and get Ray out of the party, which in a normal circumstance I would generally be in support of, but crucially, as @neuroticbookworm and @lurkingshan have touched on in some of their posts Sand cannot afford a run in with police. Not in the same way that Ray can. Ray is rich, Ray says he can handle the cops, and he can because he can buy them off, the way that Top bought them off. But Sand doesn’t come from a world where he can skirt consequences.

But there are many places where Sand lets himself get trampled over because he has legitimate feelings for Ray, and Ray won’t let Sand make his own choices long enough to wake up, look around, and realize that Ray has literally given him nothing of substance in return.

#only friends the series #ofts #only friends #only friends analysis #only friends meta #ofts meta #ofts analysis #sandray #sand x ray #firstkhao #gmmtv #jojo tichakorn #ninew pinya #first kanaphan #khaotung thanawat #wka long post

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applejuicefruit · 1 year

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hiiii! i love your stories and your page. you bring me so much joy❤️ i would love to request reader spoiling her boyfriend kylian. shes a regular working lady so she saves for months so she can do something nice, intimate and yet a little expensive. he’s so touched

hii, thank you so much for your kind words, i hope you like it ✨

kylian mbappe x reader

Die for you

You never had an expensive life. You grew up in an average family, like most of the people did. You hardly enjoyed any vacation when you were a kid because your family couldn’t afford it but you never really cared that much. You were happy with the little things you had. You were grateful your family made you understand the value of life and hard work, how to be independent from anyone else, to work hard for everything you wanted. You worked in a little book shop for years now, it was a normal job for a normal person and you liked it that way. The money you earned, it was your money, the gratitude you had over that job and the fact that you were making it all by yourself made you proud and happy.

Everything changed when you met Kylian Mbappè. Never in a million years you ever thought of becoming the girlfriend of the most famous football player here in Paris, but here you were.

You both decided to keep your relationship private from the public eye. Kylian didn’t want to put you under any stress, knowing how stressful it can be being followed home by fans and paparazzi and he didn’t want that for you. On the other hand, you wanted to keep it private because you didn’t want anything related to fame and success. A lot of people seek that. Not you.

You loved your work, you loved your life and you wouldn’t changed it for anything else.

Kylian’s lifestyle was lavish.

Luxurious penthouses.

Luxurious hotel rooms.

Fancy restaurants.

Expensive cars that he didn’t even drive.

Designer clothes.

Nothing you were familiar with.

He wanted to spoil you. He loved spoiling you.

The first time you used to date he would always bring you roses and expensive chocolate boxes. He then started buying you jewellery and designer clothes to match his. It’s not that you weren’t grateful, you loved everything he did for you but you had no idea how to pay him back. You weren’t as rich as him. You wanted to make something nice for him once in a while too.

When you told him about your concern he shoved it away with saying how he loved you and the love you had for him was everything he needed from you. The support you gave him during his matches were his anchor. But you couldn’t stop thinking that it was the bare minimum and that you wanted to do more.

So you started saving some money because you wanted to surprise him.

There was a new fancy restaurant in town that Kylian had been dying to try but it was always booked and he never had the chance to make a reservation for you two so when you saw the opportunity you took it.

You saved for weeks just for being able to afford a dinner over there but you wanted to make Kylian happy.

You also bought it a silver bracelet, similar to the one he got you a few months ago so you could have a matching bracelet.

“Are you ready mon amour?” you called him from the bedroom. He was taking hours to get ready.

“One second, I’m done” he said, fixing his jacket and his tie.

He was perfect.

“You like what you see?” he teased you.

“Oh shut up” you smiled “we better go or we’re gonna be late” you said grabbing your very expensive dior purse - the one he got you for your two months anniversary.

“Can you tell me where we are going?” he said once you started driving.

“You’ll see…” you smiled.

You will always remember the face he made when you parked in front of the famous restaurant.

“How…how? What?” he said, too stunned to speak.

You giggled at his reaction.

“Surprise!” you said, both exiting the car.

He was shocked, surprised, but shocked.

“We have a table, let’s go” you said grabbing his hand and leading him inside.

You were both surprised by the majestic entrance the restaurant had. The crystal chandelier and the black piano in the middle of the room. Everything screamed fancy and even if you were a bit out of your comfort zone, you wanted to see Kylian happy and that, was making him more than happy.

“This is incredible” he whispered in your ear and you smiled.

You both got seated next to an incredible fountain that made everything more romantic. A light and scented candle was lighting up the round table you were on.

“I don’t know what to say mon ange” he said grabbing your hands.

You smiled.

“Just enjoy the night…I wanted to make something special for you” you said truthfully and his smiled soften.

“You’re amazing…” he kissed the palm of your hands.

“I know…”you joked “by the way…I have something for you” you said giving him a cute black box.

When he opened it he couldn’t believe his eyes.

“I love it y/n…it’s beautiful, like the one you have” he said admiring the silver bracelet.

“I know…I wanted us to have a matching bracelet” you shyly said.

“Thank you mon amour…I love it so much” he kissed your hands once again.

You both enjoyed the night, eating the delicious food the restaurant served and talking about your days non stop. When it was time to pay the bill, Kylian, of course, offered to pay but you stopped him.

“This is my way to show you how much I love and care for you Kyky” you said before paying for the both of you “you always do so much for me and for once I wanted to do something for you too…” you said, smiling at him.

“You know I would die for you if you asked me to, right?” he said looking straight into your eyes.

“I’ll keep that in mind” you joked.

“Thank you” he kissed your cheek once you were both leaving the restaurant “thank you for this amazing night and for being the most incredible woman I’ve ever met in my life” he said turning you around and grabbing your waist “I love you so much” he said before leaning on for a kiss. It was a soft kiss, full of love and passion, showing how much you loved each other.

“Let me take you home so I can show you how much I love you uh?” he whispered in your ear and you were already too lost in what he was saying to think straight so you let him do anything he w

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facelessoldgargoyle · 10 months

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You know nobody’s going to want to make stuff anymore if some jackass can just lift it , make money off it and claim it’s theirs . It’s not gonna make a free idea paradise it’s just going to lead to huge company’s robbing the shit out of smaller creators even worse than they do already and driving them out of every single creative industry .

For context, this is regarding an AITA post about a someone resenting someone else for using many element of their fan AU in their own fan creations. My response was fuck that, down with intellectual property.

First, I think it’s hypocritical to write a fanfic derived from someone else’s work and then turn around and resent someone else for deriving something from your work. This is a situation in which no one is making money, it’s just people playing in a sandbox of ideas together. Resenting a smaller artist in this context seems pretty despicable to me. Your feelings about this may vary.

Second, in in my 30 second reply, I did not elaborate on my politics. I think it was fair to assume from the reply that I was a libertarian shithead. I am, in fact, a c-c-c-communist.

The primary concern you raise here seems to be that artists won’t get paid. Art already isn’t profitable though. You can work for shit wages at an animation studio, you can become an influencer to hock your book, or you can be a good enough poster that people support you on patreon. Stricter copyright laws wouldn’t fix that, it would just make it easier for Disney to go after fan artists. The problem is that the market is oversaturated with art. There are more people out there making art than can get paid a decent living for it.

That sucks! I think artists should get paid more, and I think more people should be artists! It’s depressing that such a large percentage of working artists are the children of rich people, but the flip side of the coin is that when people have financial security and leisure time, they gravitate to the arts. The obvious answer here is to create a society in which everyone has financial security and leisure time.

Finally, copyright laws most benefit people who already have accrued capital. If you’re a working artist, you’re not making enough money to take people to court over them selling merch based on your design. If you’re Anne Rice, you can afford employ lawyers to threaten people who write stories where your vampires bone and burn thousands of dollars on ads decrying a restaurant built in an empty lot featured in one of your books. This is silly, but it’s a logical extension of feeling possessive over your story and being empowered by the law to do something about it.

Copyright law promises that one day you, yes you, will profit off of your creations. Unfortunately, except for a few people who win the lottery, it’s just not gonna happen.

Instead of supporting intellectual property, it would be more meaningful to actually give artists you know money. Support someone’s patreon. Buy someone’s shit on itch.io.

#op #vilesprout

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missmeinyourbones · 2 years

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YOU WISH IT WAS ME, DON’T YOU?

cw: fake dating, wedding cake testing, friends to lovers, mutual pining, so sweet i suddenly have a cavity, oikawa is a big fat nerd pass it on

You don’t think you hear him correctly the first time.

But when he repeats himself, brashly confident and clearly enunciating his syllables between teeth and tongue, you know you’ve heard him right.

You can’t stop yourself from blurting out a genuine, “And why the fuck would we do that?”

Your words are harsh but granted, it is a stupid request.

Oikawa has officially decided the two of you should go to a bakery for wedding cake testing—to pretend to be an engaged couple. In public. As friends. Platonically. For fun.

He must’ve gotten hit in the head at practice.

“For free cake, obviously,” he shrugs, clearly not seeing an issue with his brilliant idea. “Come on, there’s gotta be a brain somewhere in that pretty little head of yours. You should use it every now and then.”

You ignore his backhanded tease (and the way your heart skips over the word “pretty” leaving his lips in reference to you.)

You pray your poker face is decent enough as you send him a glare that’s meant to be intimidating. However, the smirk growing on his face let’s you know it’s mediocre at best.

“Tooru, that doesn’t even make any sense,” you try to reason with the idiotic proposal. His head innocently turns to the side in confusion, so you begrudgingly elaborate.

“We can just buy a cake,” you rationalize, as any normal person would. “I’ve seen your paycheck and trust me, you can afford it.”

His tongue prods against his cheek in amusement (and pride) at your dig before he continues with his act, whining like a child and pouting his stupid lips.

“But that’s not the point,” he drawls the word out for at least three full seconds.

He takes a dramatic inhale, “This makes it more exciting, it's like—a whole extravagant thing!” His hands fly out by his sides, showcasing the grand gesture of how fancy the idea seems in his puny little mind.

While he thinks he’s painting an intricate picture, you aren't seeing his vision.

“It’s a silly and overdramatic ordeal, all for some lousy cake.”

At your pessimism, he scurries his way over to where you mope on his kitchen barstool. He’s never been one for utilizing personal space, but the conversation topic at hand has you overthinking every single thing he does. He’s so close you can feel the wind of his movements, the air of his dramatic exhales. You do yourself a favor and choose to look anywhere that’s not his face.

Stopping right before you, his hands clasp together in a begging formation as he borderline pleads.

“You won’t need to worry about anything, I’ll handle it all. I’ll book it, drive us in—I’ll even pay if they actually saddle us into buying something!”

When you finally pull your gaze away from your fidgeting fingers and up to his face, his eyes are glimmering with excitement. Though your stare would appear exasperated to most, he knows there’s love behind it. He can feel it.

“All you need to do,” he whispers with a knowing smile, “is come.”

You ignore how your stomach flutters. His word choice has you blushing and fuck, you can’t tell if he’s doing it on purpose or not.

You sigh with irritation and though Tooru knows you’re not quite done putting up a fight, he’s already won. The look in your skeptic eye tells him you’ve already agreed.

“If we like the cake, they’re going to expect us to follow up, with, like—actual wedding plans,” you try to reason.

“So we get married,” he easily concludes with a smile. “Well, maybe. We’ll see how this first date goes, huh?”

You overlook the wink he shoots you and how it makes your cheeks flush hot. “And if we get caught?

“That’s what makes it so fun. Our own dirty little secret.”

Okay, he’s definitely doing it on purpose.

“But that won’t happen,” he casually concludes, shrugging his shoulders with blasé confidence, “I can be very convincing.”

A silent staring contest ensues and Tooru knows he has you in the palm of his calloused hand. He watches as you struggle to fight off the smile that fights to work its way from the corners of your lips and across your entire face. Serving the final blow, he pokes your side gently and watches the grin take over.

“Do you ever tell the truth?” your eyes roll but your smile makes up for it.

He shrugs happily, “I like to lie.”

…

“And this is our white chocolate ganache filling.”

You don’t know why you’re here.

The bakery is small, cozy. A family-owned business that sits on the corner of Main Street downtown. You pass it sometimes on your daily commute to work, allowing yourself to ogle at the pastries in the display window if the weather is nice enough.

The sweet woman scheduled to run your consultation was waiting for you both by the door when you arrived. She’s an older woman, small in stature but her kindness makes up for it. You can tell she loves what she does by how she’s gleaming at the tiny details of your supposed love.

How Tooru opens the door for you, how he fixes your hair when you remove your coat, how you blush when she addresses the two of you as the soon-to-be Mr. And Mrs. Oikawa.

Eager to get the process started and sit you down, she goes through all of the assortments of flavors in what feels like one singular breath. Af if she’s some kind of dessert-wizard, she begins to list all possible kinds of combinations. Some sweet and fruity, others dense and rich.

It’s an overwhelming scenario in general, and knowing the truth behind the matter makes it all the more intimidating.

“It all looks so great,” you sheepishly stutter behind a smile, “I don’t even know where to start, honestly.”

The baker continues to overflow with excitement, “Wherever you want! It’s all yours—but we do have one tradition. For your first bite.”

Tooru indulges, now intrigued by the mystery, “Do tell.”

The woman blushes like a cherry tomato.

“You have to feed it to each other,” she practically oozes with excitement, “as practice for your actual big day! It’s a good luck thing we like to encourage all of our couples to participate in.”

She eyes your brief exchange of worried glances before carefully adding, “Only if they’re comfortable, of course!”

The hole you’ve dug yourself in just keeps getting deeper and deeper.

You slowly nod your head in faux confidence, an act Oikawa clearly sees right through.

“Yeah, sure,” you reluctantly agree. Almost immediately, a hand is on your shoulder and a pair of lips is skimming the shell of your ear.

“Look, we don’t have to—”

“Just pick a flavor, Tooru,” you snap.

He decides on a classic strawberry shortcake blend.

The tiny sample square is bright and endearing. Vanilla cake covered in a blush white frosting, stuffed with a flavored whip, and decorated with a sugared strawberry sitting bold on top. It looks delicious, almost so perfect that you don’t want to pry your shaky fork into it. But Tooru does, so you follow suit.

He makes the first move. His grip on the utensil is tight in a way that he hopes comes off as sturdy, as he slowly maneuvers closer to you. Like feeding a child a spoonful of mashed vegetables, he mimics an airplane before teasing.

“Open wide.”

With a subtle glare, you do. And he does the same. And the two of you are equally guilty of watching one another's lips curl around the metal and savor the airy sweetness dancing on your tongues.

It’s incredible. It’s delicious. And it’s the first one.

“Oh my god,” your fiancé for the evening practically moans in bliss, “Oh god, I think I died and went to heaven.”

Normally, you’d whack his arm, but given the circumstances (being the faux relationship you need to sell and how delicious the cake truly is), you resist the tempation.

“Okay, normally I’d call you dramatic, but it’s actually really good.”

Tooru opens his eyes in a daze before placing his hand over his heart in a swoon.

“And my very own personal angel? Yup, this is definitely heaven.”

...

The afternoon gets easier. You try nearly every flavor the bakery has to offer, every combination the woman recommends. From dulce de leche to lemon raspberry to chocolate mousse, everything tastes incredible and leaves your stomach fluttering with a fullness it's never known.

At least you think that's the cakes doing, and certainly not courtesy of the man sitting beside you.

With all flavors consumed and the consensus being weighed, the woman eagerly awaits your thoughts.

Tooru’s hand finds the small of your back as you sit in the cushioned chairs of the bakery. “What do you think, darling? Which one’s your favorite?”

An instant fire dances in the pit of your stomach—burning bright and contagious and terribly loud.

“I think I like this one the best,” you decide. Pointing at the strawberry shortcake, Oikawa beams.

“Knew you were gonna say that one!” his tongue darts between his teeth as he grins. “Me too. I mean, you do have great taste, after all.”

Tooru generously tips the sweet lady for the free consultation, and you don’t miss how his smile grows in size when she wishes you a happy and healthy life together. He thanks her without a second thought.

“We’re probably gonna take a day or two to think some things over, but I think it’s safe to say we’ll be in touch!” He practically hollers as he guides you out of the door and back into his car.

Stuffed to the brim with sugar and batter, you're exhausted. Amid the biggest food coma of your life, you crawl inside his passenger seat and immediately close your eyes. Though not asleep, you keep them shut when you hear him curse beneath his breath and close your door.

“Shit, I think I left my wallet on the table. Be right back!”

…

Oikawa’s car pulls into your driveway. Once the car is shifted into park, he’s removing his hand from the steering wheel and turning to where you ;lazily slump in his passenger seat.

He raises his eyebrows in amusement at your tired and full appearance. Catching his eye, you groan in response and lean against the window.

“I’m so full, I can’t even breathe.”

“And you call me dramatic,” he scoffs with a smile on his face.

You turn to him, sincere and delicate as you ask, “Are you happy? You got your dose of free cake.”

“Ecstatic,” his tone is soft, but he means it. “Iwa-chan’s gonna be mad when he sees my cholesterol levels, though.”

A laugh breathes through your nose, “He’d find a way to be mad at you, anyway.”

After a moment of quiet breathing, you dramatically sit up with a sigh, stretching your body and unbuckling your seatbelt. Tooru uses your movement as a distraction to reach for something in the backseat of his car.

When you face him to say goodbye, a tiny to-go container sits atop his car’s center console. His eyes dart from the box to your face, a silent request for you to open it.

Your brow crinkles in confusion, so he laughs and answers your silent question.

“A thank you,” he softly elaborates, “for coming with me.”

You hide your blush, “I think if I look at another piece of cake, I’ll start bleeding cream cheese frosting.”

“Oh, just open it,” he begs.

Inside the box sits a single piece of strawberry shortcake, the very first flavor you tried and your ultimate favorite of the day. It's a tiny slice, but its size isn't what you hone in on—a little frosting heart sits smack dab in the middle of the top, a detail Tooru had personally asked the woman to quickly add when going back into the shop.

While it’s a small gesture, it’s a reflection of his true intentions. As childish as he is, he didn't bring you along today just for some free cake. He did it to spend time with you—it was just an extra perk that he got to feed you cake and call you darling while doing so.

You melt in honor at the pretty pastry in front of you.

It’s no wedding or proposal or confession in the slightest, but it makes you smile, and Tooru hopes it's a step in the right direction.

#oikawa tooru #oikawa #oikawa x you #oikawa tooru x you #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa fluff #oikawa tooru fluff #oikawa fic #oikawa tooru fic #oikawa haikyuu #oikawa tooru haikyuu

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yuurei20 · 11 months

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Leona Info Compilation part 5: Ruggie (pt3)

We see Leona employ Ruggie in a variety of roles such as protecting him during Beanfest (for a “daily special” from the cafeteria every day for a week), taking on his assignments during Vargas Camp (for a shopping trip that Ruggie took with Leona’s money) and recruit new students for the spell drive club (for doughnuts).

The task Ruggie dislikes the most might be having to pick up Leona’s room and do laundry, which we hear him complain about fairly often, but Leona pays for washing Ruggie’s clothes along with his own.

Ruggie seems to be uncomfortable with receiving charity—when Silver offers to lend him money, Ruggie refuses—which is possibly why Leona is always having to find roundabout ways to support Ruggie financially.

Since Ruggie will not accept money unless he feels like he is getting away with something Leona does things like give Ruggie both his wallet and his permission to buy whatever it is he wants in exchange for standing in line at the school store.

If it weren’t for the appearance of a monster that they needed magic in order to fight off, it is likely that Leona had been intending to let Ruggie smuggle a magestone out of the mines to sell, as well.

In a vignette we see Ruggie talking to himself about wishing he could afford to eat more when Leona suddenly appears behind him.

We do not know how much Leona overheard, but when Ruggie says he needs money to buy detergent for washing Leona’s clothes, Leona tosses him his wallet and tell him to take what he needs and keep the change.

Ruggie points that out he has nothing but large bills and Leona responds, “Why’re you getting all hung up on the details?"

Ruggie reflects that Leona probably wouldn’t even notice if he kept more in change than what the detergent costs, saying, “far be it from me to look a gift horse in the mouth, though. Cha-ching!”, seemingly unaware that that is likely Leona’s exact intent.

Ruggie charges Leona “at least ten thaumarks an hour” in exchange for his help during Fairy Gala (we never see Leona haggle with Ruggie to try and underpay him; Leona always goes along with whatever price Ruggie dictates), and Ruggie seems free to refuse tasks he does not like, such as passing on messages to Malleus.

When Jamil comments that serving Leona seems “far more painful” than serving Kalim, Ruggie says that serving Kalim would just make him uncomfortable, and there is “a lid for every pot.”

Ruggie himself explains that while Leona is used to ordering people around and is a demanding boss, he is always giving things to Ruggie for him to sell.

Leona also helps with Ruggie’s education, as Night Raven College is Ruggie’s first time attending a school.

Ruggie says that Leona tutors him on lessons he does not understand and provides him with reference books and old exams, as well as “tons of useful advice”, directly resulting in a significant increase in Ruggie’s grades from “bottom of the ladder” to “somewhere just below the middle”.

In addition to never arguing with Ruggie about money Leona seems to follow his demands in other areas as well, such as not skipping classes that Ruggie insists he must attend and reluctantly eating vegetables that Ruggie puts on his plate for lunch.

Leona does not seem to like the food at the school cafeteria (calling the steaks “cheap” in Book 6) which makes sense, as he is a prince, and he is one of the strictest judges in Culinary Crucible (on par with Vil), grading meals with a 4 that Ruggie grades as 8.

However, Ruggie has a voice lines saying, “When it comes to cooking, all I can do it throw together whatever’s on hand, but it seems like Leona doesn’t care as long as it’s edible.”

This seems to insinuate that Leona either just prefers Ruggie’s cooking in particular, or at the very least he refuses to complain about it.

#leonafacts #leona kingscholar #twisted wonderland #twstfacts #twstleona

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batsarebetterthanpeople · 1 month

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you've talked about a lot of people your age are risk-averse homebodies; do you put that down to just helicopter parenting, or is everyone being broke also a factor?

Oh jeez is that post going around again.

Listen. Helicopter parenting is one of many factors. And I think that Helicopter parenting is only as common as it is because of Reagan era moral panics still having hold on society because of complex factors that have a lot to do with American exceptionalism and the cold war and American hyper individualism.

I don't think that being broke has much to do with it actually, I'm not saying it isn't part of it but it's kind of negligible in the specific problem of people refusing to touch grass. Like people are much poorer than their parents generally and it's a huge problem but it is possible and even easy to go out and hang out with people when you have no money. Literally go out and fuck around in the woods with your friends. Do it. It is easy and free and people have been doing it since the beginning of time.

No the issue is that the third space is being completely removed and part of that is manufacturing consent for it. For example community centers, if they haven't closed down altogether, have a lot fewer things for adults. You used to be able to go take a pottery class or some shit like that at a community center and it might cost you some money but those sorts of things were always intentionally affordable. Now everything is ages 5-12 if it exists at all. And as for spaces that aren't meant to be third spaces but which people use that way, loitering is being prosecuted way more now, especially in racially marginalized communities, but not just in marginalized communities. Like think about shopping malls for instance. In the 90s and 00s there used to be roving gangs of teenagers in those things now they're ghost towns. A lot of those stores will ask you to leave if you're not there to buy something. Those two things are directly connected. Bathrooms in coffee shops didn't used to be for customers only. When I was a kid I could walk into a coffee shop and sit down with a book and no one would tell me to buy something or leave as long as I was unobstructive, it's not like that anymore. Obviously COVID is a factor but that was happening before COVID.

Also people are wayyyy less religious than they used to be, which I think is good, but one side effect of it is that another third space disappeared. You used to go to church or temple or whatever once a week and Idk what non church places are like but usually you would sit for an hour and listen to some guy talk about God and you'd sing some songs and then you would go into the church basement and have coffee and food and talk to the other people who were there getting coffee and food. And the churches would have food drives and things of that nature on days other than Sunday. That stuff still happens if course but young people aren't there because we don't believe in that shit. Which yeah the church is a pretty bigoted institution and I think organized religion gives too much power to the leadership. If you connect god with some human guy that human guy can take advantage of your faith it happens all the time. But we have to replace that ritual of gathering somewhere and getting coffee and food with people once a week or we're gonna have a poorly socialized populace. And you can't really replace it with coffee shop because you have to buy your food there and you're not really encouraged to talk to other people you don't know that well the way you are at a church.

And yeah there's the financial aspect of it but it used to be easier to jump the fence and get into a concert, the bar didn't always have that cover charge, there used to be a public bathroom there, there used to be a public water fountain, there used to be a 30$ craft class, that used to be a public park and they'd do block parties and Shakespeare in the park there and now it's a parking lot, and so on and so forth.

Frankly one thing I find shocking is that even places that are expensive are getting less friendly to adults seeking activities. My town has 4 dance studios and not a single one of them offers beginner level dance classes for adults. And I'm not just talking about ballet either, they don't teach any classes to adults. I'm a drag queen that's a thing id be interested in paying for with my tip money so I can get more tips in the future. They don't have it.

Idk it just feels like "I'm broke :/" ok well being broke didn't used to mean that you had to stay in your apartment all day.

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justinspoliticalcorner · 3 days

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Jess Piper at The View From Rural Missouri:

When I first moved to Missouri, I taught at a school in Kansas City. I introduced myself for the first time to a co-worker, and she asked where I was from; I told her Arkansas. I didn’t specify a town because no one has heard of Altus, AR. She said, “What’s it like moving to a big city?” She assumed I was from a small town because I was from Arkansas. I laughed and asked her if she’d ever heard of Little Rock or any town in Northwest Arkansas? They are pretty big cities and all are in Arkansas.

To be clear, I was not offended. I am rural, but I have noticed over the years that folks confuse GOP-dominated states with rural spaces. They aren’t the same. Even the reddest states have blue cities. Even the most regressive of states will have progressive voters. And, rural communities always have Democratic voters. Ask me how I know. I know there has been much written on the vote-against-our-their-self-interest, redneck voter. Something about red hats and diners. Something about guns and racism. A lot of it isn’t nice or even true. I have some thoughts…

Reaching rural voters.

Rural folks aren’t props. You don’t have to pander to us with pickups or jeans or boots, although if you showed up in a pair of Mucks, I’d know you were the real deal. You don’t have to wear a plaid shirt, or drive a flat bed— looking at you, Josh Hawley. You don’t have to use the word “y’all” unless it’s natural. You don’t have to talk down to us like we aren’t educated. You don’t have to ask about crop prices unless you know enough to not embarrass yourself. You don’t have to act any differently with rural people than you would with any other bloc of voters.

[...]

It’s not that difficult to understand rural people. Many of us have been rural all of our lives and we want the same things every other American wants. We are like you in most respects, but we might value physical privacy and a hands-off approach to government a little more — and we don’t mind a long drive to town. Here are a few misconceptions about rural Americans:

We all live on farms. In fact, most of us don’t. Many of us work in ag, but we don’t own big farms. You need generational wealth to buy a farm that you can make a living off of. There is a listing just down the highway from me for 220 acres of tillable ground. No house, no out buildings, no barns. It’s listed at 1.5 million. That’s just the land. Now, go price a combine. You’ll need generational wealth.

We all vote against our self-interest. We often vote for progressive ballot initiatives (hello, legalized weed) so you know that’s not true. However, I will not be able to vote for a State Representative in November. My current Rep has no Democratic opposition. Last cycle, it was me running against him, but I couldn’t afford to run again this cycle. When tallying up Dem voters, it will be easy to write my district off, but we will have no one to vote for. I couldn’t vote in my self-interest if I wanted to.

We are all gun nuts. I mean, a lot of us own guns, but we also use them. They are tools in my house, not accessories to wear to town and never used to intimidate. My kids hunt (we eat what we harvest) and we also use them to protect livestock. It’s also handy if you’re in FFA and enjoy competing in shooting events. P.S. Not all of our kids are in FFA or 4H, but those programs are awesome…especially for young women.

We are all racists. I’m absolutely positive rural America has its share of racists, but guess what? So do the cities. There are Black folks who have lived in rural spaces for generations (shocking!) There are people of all backgrounds who call rural America home, just like every other corner of the US. We have racists, but racism isn’t just contained in rural spaces. It’s an American epidemic, not a rural one.

We are all angry. I recently read a book title about the “angry white rural voter” written by a couple of progressives and my first though was, well, this will help the cause. Yes, there is anger, and if you visit places like my town, you’d see why. We aren’t building, we are razing. We aren’t growing, we are diminishing. The anger isn’t from some pissed off redneck. It’s local folks seeing their way of life dying. Their children moving away and never coming back. It’s not anger…it’s sadness. Yes, many of us could vote better, but back to not having a Democratic nominee…

Here’s what I truly think; the way back to sanity is through rural America and red states. Wyoming has the same amount of Senators as California — why not send money and resources to Wyoming? Or Montana. Or Arkansas. Or Iowa. Or Missouri. Contest every seat on every ballot — even in rural spaces. Especially in rural spaces.

Jess Piper writes yet another home-run piece on rural voters and Democrats: they are in rural areas, even if they are outnumbered and oftentimes don't have a candidate running for such offices.

Hopefully the trend reverses.

#Rural #Jess Piper #Democratic Party #Substack

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lavender-at-heart · 2 years

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Dating Elvis 50s hc's

Pairing: Elvis [or Austing!elvis] x fem!reader

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff 💪😈, tiniest miniscule amount of angst at the very end.

Note: I might do one of these for each of Elvis' "eras", lmk if that's something your interested in. Also 50s elvis with his little stutter is the cutest thing alive. This kinda short too I really have to get better at making longer fics :/. Also yes you will have to deal with my Elvis obsession for a obscene amount of time.

Xoxo, CC ♡

The two of you met when he was hired by your dad to fix some wiring in your house

You had seen him around school before but had never spoken too him as he was some years older than you.

The whole time just thinking why the sweet baby faced boy with the voice of an angel was wasting his time with his current job.

You saw that he was the embodiment of pure charisma, heart and soul. You thought he could do anything he dreamed to, and you had been just dying for him to ask you out.

Everything about him seemed attractive, his voice, his hair, his way of living

Little did you know the black haired beauty had his eye on you too

Even though Elvis doesn't have a lot of money he assures you that he's worth your while and one day he's gonna get you everything you could ever dream of.

He asks you out, a nice pizza place in town- nothing fancy though

He picks you up at 6pm sharp and you two take his work truck to the place.

He showed up at your door looking as clean as a saints soul, holding a beautiful bouquet of multicolored tulips

"I-I didn't know what kind you liked. Tulips are my mommas favorite so I got them. Hope th-thats ok with you."

He'll save up every last penny to buy you something real nice , a nice red lipstick, beautiful card, a book you've been wanting, ect.

But more often then not his gifts are home made, packed full of love and meaning and/or not even material gifts but rather emotional.

After all it's the little things that count.

He'll go pick wildflowers for you during his lunch break and deliver them to you with a sweetly written note.

He always makes sure he looks his best, after all you only deserve the best. Hair always styled to perfection, shirts never having a single wrinkle, and shoes shined as often as they can be.

Sings you to sleep and makes breakfast in bed for you.

"Fresh cup of coffee for the sleepy head"

*head kisses*

Always opens the door for you, pulls out your chair, fixes your hair for you.

Gives you the biggest bear hugs and always loves to have you close.

At first he was so darn nervous around you always speaking with his stutter and afraid you wouldn't like him back.

You reassured him that you think he's the most beautiful soul you've ever met.

He'll take you to his favorite club after school to hear all his favorite singers.

You'll take him to drive in movies and kiss in his car (once he can afford to get one ofc)

You sometimes walk to his work and bring two packed lunches for you both. Can't go on having your man being hungry, or eating alone.

He'd be a little scared to show you his home, afraid you'd suddenly realize just how little money he's got and run for the hills[but that never happened ofc]

He introduced you to his mother and father, gleaming with pride as he showed them his new girlfriend.

Gladys loves you, at first she was a bit jealous of you for stealing her son away, but after seeing you encourage him to keep on dreaming her mind changed.

You also introduced him to your family, he was terribly nervous, but nothing could ever be too bad with you by his side.

When he starts trying to make a name for himself with singing, you make sure to buy every record, go to every gig, support him in any way you can.

When he goes touring for the first time you get very lonely, not used to him being so far away. Elvis calls you nearly every hour he can, he calls you more than his mother calls him.

You might drive to one of the states he's performing in and surprise him.

Always amazed at his voice and how aluring he seemed to be, you'd fall in love with him all over again.

Singing and dancing together is a must.

If you can't sing, he'll teach you.

If you can dance, he'll teach you.

Hell he might even teach you to play the guitar or the piano if he feels like it[bonus points if you already can]

He takes you to your prom and your obviously the prom king and queen 🙄🙄🙄

When he starts making some real money he'll be so happy to finally get you some really nice things.

Braging to all your friends that you date a movie star-

A new car, dresses, winter coat, puppy dog, kitten, record player, sewing machine, chess set- whatever you think you might want some day, you get it.

"Well what's mine is yours lil' darling"

You don't know how many times you've told him off for spending his hard earned money on you but he just can't seem to listen.

" just let me buy you these nice pearls mama, that's the last thing I promise."

Ofc that's the first of the soon to be massive pearl necklace collection

He invites you to move into Graceland, making sure you have your own rooms and spots just for you, or you and him.

He knows his feelings are serious, they run deeper than he could ever know

He's used to having a list full of phone numbers in his pocket, flirting back with anyone who did

But now the thought of flirting with someone else disgusts him

the pages with phone numbers have been forgotten in the trash somewhere

it's strange for him to never look at any other girl, it surprises you too.

But he only needs you and he doesn't understand why but he trusts his heart.

Oh and dont be mistaken, You are just as in love with him as he is with you~

When the news he must be sent off to Germany for two whole years reaches your ears you can barley think.

Elvis kisses away your tears and promises his swift return.

"One day- soon, I'-Im gonna m-marry, marry you. Just you wait and see."

Yes all you have to do is get through 2 lonely years and you'll be the happiest person to ever live again.

#elvis presley #elvis 2022 #elvis #elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader #austin!elvis x reader #50s elvis #elvis the king

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lesbienneanarchiste · 4 months

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Not to get nostalgic about physical media on main again but gd truly unparalleled to go to Blockbuster in my teens and early twenties and feel like there were so many things for me to explore and discover. We had two in our town, a big one and a small one. The small one was limited but had more Displays of the "Nikki's Favorites of the 90s" type. When it died, they put a wall down the center of its corpse and turned it into a driving school and a vape shop. The big one was one of those places you could just wander around for a while and look at all these movies you've never heard of. A lot of my favorite movies as a kid/teen were things I picked off the shelf randomly bc I liked the look of the spine. My spine was not so happy from me being bent sideways at the waist to read the titles but sacrifices must be made. That Blockbuster got turned into a surf and turf restaurant that was too expensive for my family (and tbh most of the families in that town) to eat at. You used to be able to walk into a big warm yellow room and see your friends, enemies, and countrymen renting the most unpredictable shit possible, for the low price of a couple bucks a DVD. They even had video games after a while so you could play stuff kids at school were talking about even if you couldn't afford to buy it brand new. You could find out about new movies coming out bc the trailers would show on the mounted tvs in the days before youtube. The big Blockbuster even had music CDs you could rent for a hot minute when I was in high school. If you liked a movie enough you could buy it for half cover price bc it was used. Sometimes much less than half cover price if it was something that didn't get rented very often or they had a ton of copies they needed to shift.

Like yeah, Blockbuster fucked over smaller independent video rental stores and that sucks but I still mourn it's demise. The way I can hate how Borders kicked all the indie book shops out of the malls and still be pissed the fuck off that they shut down and all became forever 21s.

Don't even get me started on CD shops and FYE 😭😭😭😭

#disgruntled octopus #slams fists on the table with tears in my eyes #I DONT WANNA CONSUME MEDIA. I WANNA HAVE AN EXPERIENCE.

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squeemcsquee · 9 months

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Otakon 2023: Day 3 (Sun)

Sunday got off to a slow start for us. We began with the Otamuseum, since @lechevaliermalfet was curious to see what they had on display from the other years he's attended the con.

We then parted ways to attend separate panels. I went to the Isekai Like It's 1999 panel. It wasn't a bad panel, though the title wasn't wholly accurate. I did learn about some shows I decided I might check out. And I left with some panel ideas of my own, which made @lechevaliermalfet happy when he heard about it. He's been encouraging me to consider doing panels for years now. I still don't know if I will, but I definitely got the idea for a few research rabbit holes to dive into as a result of attending this one.

After the panel, we met up and some general wandering around and soaking up con vibes occurred, before again heading to separate panels. I went to the Dubbing Around the World panel, which featured voice actors from the UK, Latin America, and Japan. The moderator was involved in the voice acting scene in the US.

It was a Q&A panel, and even though some of the questions were very typical ("How do you rehearse for a role?" "Do you have a good working relationship with your fellow dubbers?" "What's your favorite line you've ever dubbed?"), the answers were so widely different, it was great.

I always understood intellectually that there were likely different practices between different countries. But actually hearing it broken down in comparisons of rehearsal and prep time, booking time frames, group vs solo recordings...that was very illuminating. This is honestly a panel I would love to see repeated through the years, at any con that can afford to do so.

After the panel, it was time for lunch and the final rounds of Arist Alley. We always buy a ton of prints -this year was no exception. Especially after I found an artist who did FMA artwork based around Nina & Alexander memes. What can I say? I'm a sucker for them.

After our final shopping rounds and some last-minute pictures of cosplayers, we said goodbye to Otakon.

And while I didn't screenshot it, DC traffic moved slowly enough that I actually completed the Pokemon Go Community Day tasks during our drive out of the city.

All in all, I did enjoy my time at Otakon. But I don't think it's a con that @lechevaliermalfet and I will be adding to our annual roster. And not just for the expense and additional travel time. There's something about the overall feel of the con as well.

While we appreciated the differences in panel focus, artist alley, and vendor selection compared to ACen, I think we just both still feel that we really only have 1 large con in us per year. And ACen feels more like home to us, in that sense. So Otakon is one that we may do every 5 years or so, just to liven things up.

All Otakon 2023 Coverage

Otakon 2023 Day 0 (Thurs) and Day 1 (Friday)

Otakon 2023 Friday cosplay

Otakon 2023 Day 2 (Sat)

Otakon 2023 Saturday cosplay

Otakon 2023 Day 3 (Sun) - current post

Otakon 2023 Sunday cosplay

#otakon #otakon 2023 #con review #con report #prose and cons

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stesierra · 10 months

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@yesireadbooks tagged me! My words are water, purse, bottle and glass. I'm drawing from Cast Out.

I'm leaving an open tag and also tagging @elizababie and @macabremoons with the words sprint, fire, dirt, and cut.

Water

I came back outside half an hour later and found Thesil and Sefi sitting together, Thesil's arm thrown across the goose's back. Sefi was snoozing in the sun, her head tucked into her own feathers. I smiled.

"What did you run off for?" Thesil said.

"I wanted to see how many days we can afford to hide out here, in quarantine."

Thesil's mouth shut.

"I presumed you didn't want to run on to the next city. Not when you think we might carry the disease."

"No." She looked away from me. "I thought you might insist we do."

"Why? Because I wouldn't kill myself? We told Abursa we could quarantine ourselves. I meant it."

Her nod was slow in coming. "So. How many days can we stay here before we die anyway?"

I sat on her other side, the one not occupied by the goose. "With the small well near the crossroads, we won't run low on water. But I don't know how far our food will stretch."

"We can eat small meals."

"That will help. But how long is the journey to the next imperfecta camp? If we guess wrong–"

"Starvation," she signed, and looked pleased at herself when I nodded. She was picking up sign so well. Then her smile faded. "We have to risk it. We can't carry the disease to camp."

"No," I agreed. "Are you still convinced we'll be dead in a few days?"

She nodded.

"Don't think like that. Think what we'll do afterwards, instead."

"Walk a long way, I guess."

I nodded. "We'll need to find a new troupe as well."

"Why? You could make a good trade off your paintings without one. Paint a few rocks, and we'd be in business."

"Who would buy a rock?"

"If you put holy symbols on them, the pilgrims will."

"They're already starving."

"Soon so will we."

Purse

The perfectas reached our troupe at mid-day, driving a wagon pulled by donkeys, their necks straining against the weight. A tarpaulin covered the wagon bed. The drivers wore laborer's wool and no jewelry. But Abursa wheeled to greet them anyway. One perfecta tossed her a fat coin purse and drove the wagon into our camp.

I rose from under the shade tree where Thesil and I had taken shelter for the afternoon rest. Thesil was rubbing at her eyes as though an eyelash had lodged itself under her eyelid and multiplied. I left her to it. If the perfectas had brought us an automa, then I would need to paint it.

I reached the wagon at the same time as Abursa. She nodded to me and turned to say something to the perfecta man. He pulled the tarpaulin off the wagon bed with a flourish.

A wooden donkey lay on its side in the wagon, its legs longer and more graceful than any real beast's, its ears feather-plumes, its eyes balls of swirling glass. Its torso shattered by some massive impact that had smashed wood and cut a hole as long as my arm.

I caught a glimpse of the exposed core, glowing a subdued ugly yellow, before the scent of the oracle ore hit me. I staggered forward, visions creeping in at the edge of my sight, and fell to my knees beside the wagon.

Bottle

My gaze was on my little house, my refuge. Another step, and my foot glanced off something hard and round. I stumbled, kicking the obstacle out of my way, and wobbled upright. For once my balance had saved me a trip to the dirt.

The tripping hazard was a brown glass jug, its top tightly sealed with wax and tar. It lay on its side a few feet away until an unremarkable brown hand righted it. I shook myself out of my concerns about Grandmother and blinked at my surroundings. I'd nearly stepped on Tamorin and Gadara. They sat on a folded grass mat just beyond the line of automas, a healer's bag and a book open at Tamorin's side. Bandages and bottles stood out clearly against the bag's black weave. Blankets were folded neatly beside them.

Tamorin was holding the jug carefully and checking it for damage. His sister glared at me. "Watch where you're going."

"Sorry," I signed back.

"You're lucky you didn't break that. Then you'd be sorry."

"Was that a threat?"

Her lip curled. "If you want naphtha all over your legs, be my guest. But you might want to avoid the cookfire."

Glass

The house was beautiful. Some builder had stacked slabs of stone into walls and counters inside, and thatched the roof in bark thin enough that the breeze blew in and the sun stained the edges between strips pale. It had a stone floor, the same flagstone that made up the walls, but the windows were free of glass. Instead, someone had glued sheets of mica together to form a patchwork glaze across the view of the town. In points, it was nearly invisible. In others, it was layered thick enough to tint the world golden as honey.

#tag games

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always-andromeda · 2 years

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iii. Flock | Eli Sunday x fem!Reader

Eli Sunday x fem!Reader

Word Count | 2,280

Summary | "Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb a reward." Psalm 127:3

Author's Note | very big shoutout to @lost-in-sokovia. definitely took some inspo from her auggie pieces while writing parts of this! if you aren't part of auggienation yet, this is your sign to! okay, I've done my part in this community today, time for a nap, catch y'all on the flip side.

Warnings | pregnancy, mentions of giving birth, a single mention of blood, nothing else I can think of!

Parts | i. | ii. | iii.

It was shortly after the wedding when Eli began to make plans to travel around California; to achieve his God given mission. He plans to do more than his father before him. He's already expanded the church in Little Boston from the cramped rickety building he'd started with what seemed so long ago. But the message is spreading and he wants to take advantage of it.

So he starts booking train tickets all around California in every major city that he could.

"It'll be a full tour of the state! And it’ll just be the two of us. Sharing the Lord’s word.” He presses his forehead against yours as he tells you, swaying your hips back and forth with him.

You quickly learned he liked doing that, especially when he was overwhelmed by something. Just to catch your rhythm, he’d hum. He was fascinated by how you were able to stay calm during any storm. So the swaying was his way of letting your patience and compassion rub off on him; an act of self soothing. You love it; love being a beacon of light for him.

But little does Eli know, it won’t be just the two of you for long. It begins in San Francisco. You and Eli had just traveled through San Mateo by train. And when you get to the city, you’re dazzled by the sights. You’ve seen many parts of the state in the time you’d traveled with your father, looking for places to drill, but this was something different. Especially for Eli. In many ways, he is still the naive boy from Little Boston. So seeing how he reacts to the difference between his home and the unexplored is half the fun.

Eli has never seen buildings so tall and streets so wide. The trolleys fascinate him as well. And oh, the automobiles! Whenever he saw a particularly shiny one glide down the street he wanted to buy one. Just to drive you around in. You have to convince him quite often to leave the idea behind for now. You can hardly afford even a small hotel room in the first place. But the extravagance continues to impress him.

The hotel was decidedly not The Palace (where he’d really wanted to take you), but it was better than any place he’d stayed before. There was a proper radio in the room and real indoor plumbing. Even the bed had more cushion than the one at home, which he took great delight in.

Until you’re in the restroom, retching up your lunch into the porcelain sink. His expression is knitted with concern as he rubs circles on your lower back, and you assure him that it was probably the sway of the train that made you so nauseous. But he’s never seen you react this way after a simple train ride. The most damning of all is that the feeling doesn’t go away. You're still sick late into the night, barely being able to keep your food down.

Despite how you tell him over and over that you are just fine, you want to sit down every few minutes. But you don't give in to the screaming exhaustion your body faces. You two are up so early one morning, helping to feed the unhoused people that linger around the church when you feel lightheaded and begin to collapse. A few other women from the congregation catch you before you can really fall. They tell one of the men to find Father Sunday and notify him that his wife has fallen ill.

Eli nearly makes himself ill with worry. Were you dying? Was there some sort of flu spreading that God hadn't made him privy to? The Lord wouldn't dare take his wife so young. You’re never this sick. So he meets you at a hospital and waves away the church women who are crowding around you, asking endless questions about how you’re feeling. You’re grateful that he does it for you. Still too dizzy to do anything but keep your eyes on him and clutch his hand, Eli is shouting for a nurse, a doctor, anyone who could possibly help his angel.

Goodness, did he look like a fool when the doctor told him you were mostly likely pregnant. You weren’t dying. You were bringing in life! The doctor suspected you were around twelve weeks along, somewhere in the first trimester. Not far enough to show too much, but far enough that you knew you’d missed your period a few times. That and the sickness from over exerting yourself made it a pretty good bet that you were going to have a baby.

The doctor insists that you get rest, that if you work yourself up more, it could affect the baby’s health. Eli takes it so seriously. But you can't stand it, you can't stand the masses surrounding you. You can't stand the way Eli looks at you with distress.

“I won’t have you up and about when our child is at stake.” He waves his finger at you.

“You seem to forget that I am my own person and just because there’s a child inside of me, you don't get to control how I live my life." Your voice is stern, your pale figure talking down to him from the hospital bed.

Eli raises his voice, knowing that even behind the closed door, anyone listening outside would be able to hear him, “I am your husband and you shall do as I say!”

Immediately, he knew that he had gone too far. He tries to stay reluctant; tells himself that he is right deep down and that it is your duty to obey him. But you begin to sob, tears dripping down the front of the thin hospital gown. And Eli sighs, swaying in place for just a second as he thinks. He clenches his fist just tight enough that he determines he needs to be next to you.

He sits beside you on the narrow bed, one of his legs hanging off the edge. You flinch away for a second before allowing him to pull you close to his chest. Quite now, he says, “Tell me what is wrong, angel. Why can’t you just listen to the doctor.” Your demeanor was such a swift change from how eager you had been just a few months before. Had the mission changed you enough that your heart no longer had room for his children?

But you sniff back the tears and manage in a more resilient voice, “I won’t…I won’t let myself be a great big lump you simply carry around. I did that for long enough with my father. Always the thorn in his side.” You played with his modest cross pendant.

"You could never be the thorn in my side, my angel. I promised I would give you everything. I wouldn't offer that if I believed you were a burden." You refuse to look at him straight until he adjusts your chin to face him with a single, shaking digit.

"I love you," He says firmly, "Nothing will ever change that."

"Say it again."

"I'll say it as many times as you need. At least until you believe it." That's the hardest part about his love. It is so selfless and true that you almost don't know how to handle it. Daniel hadn't loved you unless there was some sort of advantage to it. Meaning, he rarely felt it and never expressed it.

But Eli was all in for everything. As soon as you both leave the hospital, he finally takes up one of his congregation members on an offer to house him and his darling wife. He can't keep frivolously spending money on the hotel, no matter how much he'd miss the cushy bed. The room is on the second floor anyways and he doesn't want you struggling up and down stairs.

The family that takes you in is small. A husband and wife with a child of their own. The boy reminds you of H.W. which does a little bit to comfort you through the long days. Eli pulls away from his duties a little bit more, though you still encourage him to go to his services. His church needs him for than his little wife. He meets you halfway and appoints a few others in his congregation who are dedicated and well educated so they can pick up the sermons that he misses.

The idea is a blessing. Now he gets to spend more of his time with you, growing more and more lovesick as the weeks pass by. He rests his head against your stomach, feeling for little kicks. He's also become obsessed with thinking of names. With pages of biblical names flooding his head, he'll blurt them out right before bed, when you're just about to fall asleep. But none of them sound quite right.

It hits you in the dead of the night, your dreams swirling with stone statues of David and Goliath and Italian chapels, you awaken with a start.

"Eli," You whisper. Eli is wrapped around you, a hand over your stomach. He twitches, feeling you stir beside him. Eli, hums a little against your shoulder.

"Florence if it's a girl. David if it's a boy."

Barely awake, you feel the slight curl of his lips, "They're perfect."

The congregation asks you what you and Eli plan to name the child. But both of you keep the quiet, hushed secret that you'd both made while embraced in the dark. It was enough to make him give a toothy grin nearly every time he sees you. He can't wait to be a real father.

When you go into labor, Eli can't even begin to distinct one emotion from the other. He is worried, ecstatic, sick, and scared; his heart full of love but also full of fear. He hasn't forgotten that wedding night, his anxiety about you not making it through this experience. It's made even worse when the doctors and nurses won't allow him into the delivery room. They assure him that most men don't want to see their wives in this way. But he hears you screaming on the other side of that door. And there's nothing for him to do but wrap his arms around himself and try fruitlessly to control his breathing.

He's sure that he will hyperventilate until a nurse comes out, declaring, "It's a girl!" The men of the church are cheering him on, urging him towards the room. And though he desperately wants to see you, he is terrified of what he'll find. He pictures something akin to a crime scene, blood splatters everywhere, horrified expressions and the feeling of death. His heart practically stops in his chest when he sees you so still on that hospital bed. Then he catches the labored breaths you're taking. Though the hospital used anesthetics that numbed some of the strain, you were cognizant enough to know that the recovery period is going to be difficult.

Rushing to your side, Eli is brushing the loose hairs off of your forehead and kissing your brow. A nurse quickly cleans little Florence, before presenting her once more to you. You take her in your arms easily, supporting her little head as she cries.

Seeing his daughter finally being born, the mix of sentimental feelings that rush over him is indescribable. He mumbles broken bits and pieces of prayers, thanking God for keeping you safe and for blessing him with a child. When he finally holds her, he is done for. She's still crying, but the sound slowly calms down when he sways her gently. Eli had decided long ago that he would be the most devoted and loving husband he possibly could. But now he gets to add being a father to that promise.

“Look at you, you’re so small. Such a little lamb.” He coos, running a finger over her plushy cheek.

“Little lamb…” You murmur quietly. So tired that you just might fall asleep. But you fought to stay awake as Eli tucked you into his side on the hospital bed, holding the bundle between you two. You finally see her face. All pink and wrinkled and scrunched up as she tries to sleep.

Eli lays his head on top of yours, “I am the most blessed man to ever exist.” You giggled at him, lovingly staring with half lidded eyes.

He notices your observation of him, “What?”

“She looks like you.” Your voice is hoarse.

“Oh, you hysterical woman. I can only hope she takes on your features. She’ll be far better off that way.”

“No…she’s going to be just like you. Spoiled and indignant.” Lightly biting your lip, you watch his expression fill with confusion.

“Spoiled? Indignant?”

Your laugh comes deep from your chest, “Mhmm. She is a preacher’s daughter. It’s only natural that she’ll be a little bit full of herself.”

“You’ll keep her head out of the clouds.”

“You’re so sure?”

“Absolutely. You do well enough holding me to the earth. What’s one more? Besides, she’s so tiny that it wouldn’t be much work.” He holds up her small, chubby fist as proof.

“You’re incorrigible.”

Eli turns to you, gazing into your sleepy eyes, and hoping he doesn't find any doubt in them, “But, you’re happy, aren’t you?”

With a gentle kiss to Florence's fuzzy head, you murmur, “Immensely.”

Eli only begins to suppress the sound of his sob, “Then we have done well for ourselves.” And so Eli Sunday prays that his little flock stays this way, happy, together, and filled with an abundance of love.

#there will be blood #eli sunday #eli sunday x you #eli sunday x reader #eli sunday smut #eli sunday fluff #eli sunday fic #danonation #paul dano #danocel #˚ʚ meda writes ɞ˚

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mathsbian · 11 months

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Are you buying gifts for a disabled friend? Not sure what might be a good gift? Here’s some thoughts to help you figure it out:

Do they have an income/are they financially stable? If not, ask them if there is a purchase they have been putting off due to expense, and would make their life easier to have. I asked my mom for an electric razor and a water flosser for Christmas a few years ago because I struggle to keep up with shaving my legs (something I need to do for sensory reasons) and with the motivation to floss. Both of these items made my personal hygiene routines much easier to do so I could do them more often. My partner’s mother bought us a robot vacuum at a big discount on Black Friday that same year, and it’s made keeping the house clean a lot easier for me. This would also be a good way to find out about any assistive devices they’re interested in getting, but worried about wasting their money on it if it turns out not as useful as they thought!

Are they able to cook or do they have a reliable way to get food (either a meal delivery service or living with someone who cooks for them)? If not, consider gift cards for restaurants and fast food places, or gift cards for food delivery services. I rely on my partner for meals, but they also have chronic pain (they just aren’t as bad off as I am currently and are still able to work and do a lot compared to me) and sometimes they don’t have the energy to cook either. On those days, it’s really convenient to have some funds for food so we can go to a drive-thru or order a pizza or Chinese take-out or something. But with how tight our finances are, sometimes we can’t afford to do that and my partner had to figure out something else to do for dinner (it usually ends up being cereal on those nights). My parents also sometimes give me gift cards to restaurants I would otherwise not be able to afford to eat at, allowing me to treat myself and my partner to nice meal around my birthday or their birthday or the holidays that my partner doesn’t have to cook.

As an alternative to giving gift cards for food, you can also give meals you’ve made that they can reheat, as long as you check about any dietary concerns before making them a dish.

Are they able to do housework? If not, offer to come help them get their house clean, or offer to pay for a one-time cleaning service to stop by. Especially if they’ve been struggling to get their house clean for a while, they might feel overwhelmed by the amount of work that needs done. A helping hand or a service coming in and cleaning up the whole house on their behalf could be a huge help, both for their physical health and peace of mind.

Are they able to drive themself to places they need to go? If not, offer to be a ride to their next doctor’s appointment, or give them a gift card for a rideshare service like Uber or Lyft. Especially in the US, where public transit is a nightmare.

And back to their financial situation: when was the last time they bought themselves something fun? I can’t justify spending money on new games or new books or anything like that. My budget is way too tight. So it’s always nice when someone gets me a Steam giftcard or buys me a game or book or something that I’ve been wanting and just. Could not justify buying no matter how inexpensive it was. For example, I can’t play games at my computer very often anymore. I can’t sit at a desk that long. I originally bought Stardew Valley on Steam back when I had a laptop and could play it while laying in bed or chilling on the couch. But I don’t have a laptop anymore and when I have the ability to sit at my desk I’m usually wanting to play something a bit more intensive than Stardew Valley. Ever since it was released on the Switch I’ve been wanting it for my Switch. It was only $15 but I just could not justify spending that when I’m always needing money for food or groceries or bills. My roommate bought it for me as an early birthday gift back in January, so now I can play Stardew Valley wherever I want again. I’m not going to be stuck with shitty phone games anymore. It was so nice of him to do!

Other ideas:

If they don’t have much of a support system, and you’re close with them, ask if they need support self-advocating with any of their doctors and offer to attend their next appointment with them. Don’t be offended if they turn you down, obviously doctor’s appointments are stressful and can be invasive and they might not want you aware of all the various issues they’re dealing with medically. But they might really appreciate someone going with them and backing them up if they’re struggling to get their doctor(s) to listen to them.

If they spend a lot of time at home alone, offer to set up a regular visit time! It doesn’t have to be every week or anything that’s too often for you to handle, but any amount of time spent with friends is much better than spending that time feeling lonely some more. In this case, try to also make an effort to include them in plans with other friends. Even if they end up not being able to leave the house that day, it’s nice to feel like your friends want to spend time with you and miss you when you’re gone.

Ask if they need assistance applying for aid of any kind. The SSDI application takes a lot of effort to complete, and if they struggle to concentrate or have hand pain it can be a real challenge getting all of the forms filled out. Maybe they need help finding a lawyer to represent them while they apply. Maybe they need help setting up an ABLE account or getting on Food Stamps or Medicare/Medicaid. Again, they might refuse the offer as a lot of this information can be very private, but I know I definitely appreciate any help my partner can offer in getting these more tedious steps of the process done, thanks to my intense brain fog.

If anyone else has other thoughts about ways to figure out good gifts for disabled friends, feel free to add them!

(This was based on my own experience as a disabled person, who greatly enjoys giving the most perfect gifts to other people. I know love languages are an over-simplified way of looking at personal needs satisfaction, but gifts is genuinely, by far, my biggest love language.)

#disabilties #chronic illness #disabled things #disability acceptance #gift-giving #love langauges #my post #this has been sitting in my drafts since January oof

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7r0773r · 9 months

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Written on Water by Eileen Chang, translated by Andrew F. Jones

Mankind is naturally inclined to mind other people's business. Why shouldn't we take the occasional stealthy glance at one another's private lives, if the person being looked at suffers no real damage and the one who looks is afforded a moment of pleasure? In matters involving the provision and procurement of pleasure, there's no need to be overly fussy. What, in the end, is there to fuss about? Misery endures, but life is short. (Notes on Apartment Life, p. 33)

***

I sketched with the knowledge that I would very soon lose the ability to do so. And from this I derived a lesson, an old lesson. If there is something you want to do, do it right away; even then, you might already be too late. Man is the most changeable of creatures. (From the Ashes, p. 58)

***

The vehicle of the times drives inexorably forward. We ride along, passing through thoroughfares that are perhaps already quite familiar. Against a sky lit by flames, they are capable nevertheless of shaking us to the core. What a shame that we occupy ourselves instead searching for our reflections in the shop windows that flit so quickly by—we see only our faces, pallid and trivial. In our selfishness and emptiness, in our smug and shameless ignorance, every one of us is like all the others. And each of us is alone. (From the Ashes, p. 60)

***

A child on a bicycle dashes down the street just to show off. He lets out a shout, lets go of the handlebars, and effortlessly shoots past, swaying atop the seat. And in that split second, everyone in the street watches him pass, transfixed by an indefinable admiration. Might it be that in this life that moment of letting go is the very loveliest? (A Chronicle of Changing Clothes, p. 84)

***

I still remember the first time I saw the sea in Hong Kong: the lifeless, artificial shade of blue reminded me of the ocean on a retouched color postcard. Later, I stumbled across much the same metaphor in an English book: "You could cut out the Persian Gulf and send it home as a postcard, the blue of the water was so deep and so dull." The discovery that someone else has long ago given voice to your own words, and said them much better than you ever could, is disconcerting enough. But to discover that he didn't say it as well as you might have done is heartbreaking. (Let's Go! Let's Go Upstairs, p. 107)

***

My friend Yanying says: "Every butterfly is the spirit of a dead flower who has come back in search of itself." (The Sayings of Yanying, p. 125)

***

The discussions taking place among writers as to our present course and our path forward seem to me an unimaginable liberty—as if there were any choice in the matter. No doubt the garden of literature is broad and inclusive: when visitors buy their tickets and enter its precincts, they can have their pictures taken on the Nine-Bend bridge, swarm over to the zoo, or roam as they wish across the grounds. Their freedom of movement is truly enviable. But I believe that writers themselves should be like trees in the garden, growing naturally within its confines, with their roots extending deep into the ground below. As they grow, their viewpoint will begin to grow wider, and as their field of vision expands, there is no reason why they shouldn't be able to develop in new directions, for when the wind blows, their seeds will disperse far into the distance, engendering still more trees. But that is the most difficult task of all. (What Are We to Write?, p. 139)

***

No wonder those who have children keep on having them. They see children as amusing little blockheads, lovable and laughable encumbrances. They fail to see what is so very frightening about children's eyes—such earnest eyes, the eyes of the angels on Judgment Day.

Without any real credentials, we blithely make eyes such as these, their little minds capable of criticism and judgment, their bodies capable of experiencing the most exquisite pain as well as pleasure. Without credentials, we make people, and stumbling between hunger and satiety, between knowledge and ignorance, we raise them to adulthood. Making people is quite a dangerous occupation. Mothers and fathers are not gods, but they are forced into occupying a position of divinity. And even if you play that divine role with great care, even if you prepare meticulously for the arrival of your child, there is no way to guarantee what sort of person the child will eventually become. If conditions do not favor a child even before he is born, then he can hardly be expected to succeed later in life. Such are the operations of fate.

Of course, the more arduous the situation, the more apparent will become the tremendous love parents bear for their children. Either the parent or the child must be sacrificed to circumstances, and it is from this hard truth that we have derived the moral virtue of self-abnegation. (Making People, pp. 142-43)

***

My mother also told me that in drawing pictures one should always avoid using red in the background, because the background must be kept at a distance from the rest of the image, and red seems to leap right out of the picture and into your eyes. The walls of the bedroom I shared with my little brother, though, were painted just the sort of orangey red that refuses to keep its distance. I had chosen the color, and when I drew pictures, I still liked to color the walls behind all the little people red, because things looked warmer and cozier and more intimate that way. (Whispers, p. 164)

***

On the wall of the classroom in my old school there hung a reproduction of the Mona Lisa, the famous painting of the Italian Renaissance. Our teacher told us, "Notice the strange smile on her face." And it was truly a disquieting smile, lovely yet ambiguous. It looked as if it might disappear at any moment, and even though the smile remained in place as I carefully examined the painting, I was left all the same with an unaccountable sensation of loss. Our teacher told us that when the master was working on this painting, he had exerted himself to the utmost searching for rare and exotic objects from across the globe to place in front of this woman, all in order to get her to smile that particular smile. I didn't like this explanation. Green tortoises, mummy's feet, or mechanical toys: none of these would necessarily elicit a smile like that. To make someone smile that particular smile would surely be more difficult. Or perhaps easier than one might think. When a woman remembers a gesture or a little habitual motion that her lover tends to make, there is a childishness to her expression, lovable and at the same time pitiful, for she is suddenly suffused by a tender lenience that radiates outward, casting her past and her future in its shade. And at that moment, there might well be a smile as evanescent as this one in her eyes. (On Painting, p. 203)

***

Time is like space: there are areas that are worth money as well as vast stretches of wasteland. (Epilogue: Days and Nights of China, p. 233)

#book quotes #eileen chang

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